!' 

■ 

Shelf. 

1 

PRINCETON,  N.  J.          ^* 

BR  315  .M152b  1884 

Macintosh,  J.  S. 

The  breakers  of  the  yoke 

! 
1 

i 


THE  BREAKERS  OF  THE  YOKE. 


SKETCHES  AND  STUDIES 


Men  and  Scenes  of  the  Reformation. 


A  SERIES  OF  DISCOURSES 


DELIVERED   IN   THE 


SECOND   PRESBYTERIAN   CHURCH,    PHILADELPHIA, 


BY 


Rev.  J.  S.  Macintosh,  D.D. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PRESS    OF     HENRY     B.     ASHMEAD, 

1102  AND  110-1  Sansom  Street. 

1884. 


COPYRIGHT,  1884. 
Rev.   J.   S.    Macintosh,  D.D. 

PHILADELPHIA. 


MEMBEES  OF  THE  SECOND  PRESP.YTERIAN  CHURCH, 

PHILADELPHIA, 

3CtfSt  iSi'scourscs  art  SLffcctfonatclB  ffltiitattli 

BY   THEIR 

FRIEND   AND   PASTOR. 


CONTENTS. 


I. — John  Wycliffe,  "  The  Morning  Star   of  the 

Reformation," 9 

II. — John  Huss,  The  Flame  of  Bohemia  and  the 

Martyr  of  Constance,  ....       43 

III. — Girolamo    Savonarola,    Monk,    Master    and 

Martyr  op  Florence, 85 

IV. — The  Intolerable  Yoke.     The  Church  of  the 
Middle    Ages:     Her    Degradation    and 

Despotism, 125 

V. — Martin  Luther,  The  Monk   of   Erfurt,  the 

Man  op  the  Emancipation,  .         .         .167 

VI. — Patrick    Hamilton,    The    Princely    Pioneer 

OP  Scottish  Presbyterianism,      .         .        .     193 
VII. — Ulrich   Zwingle,  The  Hero  of  Helvetic  Re- 
form,         213 

VIII. — John  Knox,  The  Father  of  Scotland  and  the 

Founder  of  her  Church,     ....     255 
IX. — Our   Heritage   and   our   Hopes.     The   Pros- 
pects of  Protestantisji,        ....     373 


PREFACE. 


These  discourses  are  simply  what  they  are  called — sketches 
and  studies  of  the  men  and  times  of  the  Reformation.  They  are 
not  exhaustive  biographies,  nor  even  finished  monographs.  Such 
they  were  never  designed  to  be.  The  aim  was  to  sketch  graph- 
ically the  great  men  who  broke  for  us  and  our  fathers  the  intoler- 
able yoke  of  papal  bondage,  and  to  study  carefully  the  age  and 
the  circumstances  in  which  they  each  lived  and  wrought.  These 
lectures  formed  a  series  of  evening  discourses  delivered  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Luther  and  the  Zwingle  commemorations.  They 
were  prepared  from  week  to  week  amid  all  the  distractions  and 
under  the  pressure  of  steady  pastoral  work.  Yet  an  honest  effort 
was  made  to  render  them  as  accurate  and  as  attractive  as  the 
themes  themselves  demanded  and  the  audiences  deserved.  Of 
publication  there  was  not  at  the  first  any  thought.  Those  who 
heard  the  discourses,  however,  desired  to  possess  them  for  them- 
selves and  for  their  friends  in  a  permanent  form  ;  and  at  the  re- 
quest of  the  session  and  the  trustees  of  the  Second  Presbyterian 
Church  they  have  been  printed.  A  few  generous  friends,  ever 
ready  to  kindly  deeds,  have  borne  the  cost  of  i")ublicatiou,  which 
as  to  style  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired.  The  discourses  are  pub- 
lished just  as  they  were  delivered.  Many  changes  in  form  and 
expression  the  writer  wished  to  have  made,  and  many  additions 
with  a  view  to  greater  completeness ;  but  the  incessant  demands 
of  the  pulpit  and  the  pastorate  forbade  any  such  alterations. 


Vlll  PREFACE.  ' 

Prefixed  to  each  lecture  will  l)e  foimd  a  list  of  authorities 
which,  Avith  many  other  works,  I  have,  iu  preparing  these  dis- 
courses, freely  and  constantly  used.  To  these  works  I  owe  much, 
and  gladly  declare  my  indebtedness.  Acknowledgments  would  I 
also  make  of  the  kindness  of  many  friends  in  Britain,  Switzerland 
and  Germany,  who  have  helped  me  much  in  these  and  kindred 
studies.  From  Dr,  Roberts,  of  the  Princeton  Seminary,  and  from 
the  courteous  officers  of  the  Philadelphia  Library,  have  I  received 
most  willing  and  valuable  assistance. 

John  S.  Macintosh. 
PHiLAUELniiA,  April,  1884. 


4»    ^' 


JOHN  WYCLIFFE, 

&e  innm  ^ln'  «f  ^¥  liefotmalion." 


"  'Twas  his 
To  see  God's  truth  thro'  eyes  like  eagles",  which 
From  higher  Alps  undazzled  eye  the  sun." 

"  Great  truths  are  portions  of  the  souls  of  men  ; 
Great  souls  are  portions  of  eternity." 


WOEKS  CONSULTED. 


Vaughan's  Life  of  WycliiFe,  Lewis'  Biography,  Arnold's  Select  Eng- 
lish Works  of  Wycliffe,  Shirley,  Le  Bas,  Engelhard,  Neander,  Lives  of 
Savonarola,  various  works  on  Huss  and  Bohemia,  several  German  mon- 
ographs, e.  g.,  Zeits.  f.  Hist.  Theol.,  1853,  Reformers  before  the  Refor- 
mation, Lechler's  life  with  Lorimer's  notes.  To  these  works  and  to  the 
articles  in  cyclopaedias  I  would  refer  all  desiring  further  information. 


JOHN  WYCLIFFE, 

THE  MORNING  STAR  OP  THE  REFORMATION." 


"  The  yoke  shall  be  destroyed  because  of  the  anointing." 

— Isaiah  x.  27. 

Memorable  and  spirit-stirring  scene  that  which  took 
place  at  the  close  of  the  year  1512  just  outside  the 
gates  of  Milan !  There  stand  rank  on  rank  the  victo- 
rious troops  of  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope,  with  banners 
waving  and  trumpets  sounding  ;  there  upon  seats  of  dig- 
nity are  massed  the  ambassadors,  legates,  deputies  and 
commissioners  of  the  Vatican,  of  Spain,  the  holy  Roman 
empire  and  a  score  of  proud  cities  and  duchies ;  there 
waits  the  young  Duke  Maximilian  Sforza  about  to  re- 
gain his  palace  and  his  authority ;  and  here,  in  the  very 
centre,  as  the  heroes  of  the  heroes,  are  the  resistless 
Swiss  who  had  swept  the  French  invaders  from  the 
land,  who  had  carried  freedom  to  Italy  and  had  saved 
the  Church.  At  their  head  stands  the  burgomaster  of 
Zurich  with  the  keys  of  Milan,  which  are  now,  with 
Latin  oration,  placed  in  the  hands  of  Maximilian.  Then 
forth  steps  the  Cardinal-legate  to  honor  in  the  name  of 
the  Pope  and  by  the  authority  of  the  Emperor,  and 
amid  the  applause  of  the  multitude  and  with  the  ap- 
proval of  Germany,  Italy  and  Spain,  the  Swiss  con- 
querors. Henceforth  their  title  shall  be  "  The  Liber- 
ators of  the  Church,"  and  their  banners  shall  bear  "the 
sacred  image  of  the  risen  Saviour."     Because  they  had 


12  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

saved  the  Cliurcli,  restored  liberty  and  broken  the  yoke 
of  tlie  oppressive  invader. 

A  grander  and  vastly  more  spirit-stirring  scene  is 
this  year  opening  to  our  view  :  the  wide  world  of  the 
reformed  Christendom  assembles ;  out  of  every  people 
and  kindred  and  tongue  the  glad  representatives  of 
thankfulness  and  triumph  arise ;  the  welkin  rings  with 
the  songs  of  the  redeemed,  and  their  delight  and  duty 
are  before  God  and  the  on-looking  world  to  crown  those 
who  counted  not  their  lives  dear  unto  them  for  the  sake 
of  Christ's  cause  and  glory,  who  wrought  righteousness, 
who  accepted  not  sinful  deliverance,  and  led  the  Church 
back  to  light,  life  and  liberty.  Round  these  God-given 
and  Spirit-strengthened  heroes  of  the  faith,  these  "  men 
to  be  wondered  at,"  these  more  than  conquerors,  we  gather, 
to  hail  them  not  by  fiction  nor  in  flattery,  but  in  fact 
and  all  fullness  of  truthful  meaning,  ''  The  Liberators  of 
the  Church,"  and  to  lecognize  the  splendid  emblazon- 
ment which  in  cloud  and  sunshine,  through  seemingly 
crushing  defeats  and  all-joyous  victories,  they  bore  on 
their  banner — the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  "  delivered  for  our 
offences  and  raised  again  for  our  justification." 

These  are  verily  "  the  breakers  of  the  yoke ;"  and 
the  anointing  of  the  Spirit  was  the  secret  of  their 
strength  and  the  seal  of  success.  To  w^hom  more 
aptly,  more  worthily,  may  these  stirring  and  sacred 
words,  "  the  yoke  shall  be  destroyed  because  of  the 
anointing,"  be  applied  than  to  those  most  manly,  those 
so  spiritual,  men  who  freed  the  Church  from  the  yoke 
of  bondage  which  neither  we  nor  our  fathers  could  bear  ? 
The  rapt  seer  gazes  upon  this  marvellous  spirit-picture, 
at  once  saddening  and  gladdening.  Here  the  haughty 
oppressor  is  seen  seated  on  his  blood-won  throne,  his 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        13 

face  proud  and  flushed  with  the  despot's  full  faith  in 
his  assured  safety,  and  his  mouth  mocking  his  serfs 
with  the  derisive  smile  that  says,  "  Yv^ho  shall  dispos- 
sess me  ?"  and  here  the  cowering  slaves  who,  bound 
with  the  iron  yoke,  scarce  dare  to  lift  their  heads  and 
have  hardly  heart  enough  to  hope,  as  in  heavenly  tones 
there  is  softly  whispered  to  them  by  their  covenant- 
companion  God,  "  not  by  might,  nor  by  power,  but  my 
Spirit — the  yoke  shall  be  destroyed  by  reason  of  the 
anointing."  That  vision  is  for  all  time.  Every  eman- 
cipation has  been  by  spirit-anointed  men.  Moses,  Sam- 
uel, David,  are  proofs.  Yes,  that  grandest  emancipation, 
Christ's  own  destruction  of  the  yoke  of  the  strong  one 
armed,  was  by  this  anointing,  for  "  Jesus  returned  in 
the  power  of  the  spirit  into  Galilee ;  and  there  went 
out  a  fame  of  him  through  all  the  region."  And  that 
emancipation,  which  is  only  second  to  this  supreme  lib- 
erty of  Christ's  working,  and  which  involves  it,  that 
emancipation  which  is  grander  far  than  Israel's  from 
Egypt,  or  Midian,  or  Philistia,  or  Babylon,  and  from 
a  yoke  more  irksome  and  a  slavery  more  debasing  and 
deadly,  that  thrilling  release  from  Rome's  tyranny, 
was  begun,  carried  forward,  and  finished  by  "  good  men, 
full  of  faith  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  It  was  His  anoint- 
ing made  them  more  than  conquerors  ;  thence  the  resist- 
less "  wisdom  and  spirit  by  which  they  spake." 

Who  was  the  leader  of  these  "  anointed  ones,"  the 
first  of  the  band  of  yoke-breakers,  the  head  of  the 
grand  column  ?  He  was,  thank  God,  an  Anglo-Saxon  ! 
Of  "  the  great  day  of  the  new  light,"  the  Morning 
Star,  breaking  in  upon  the  thick  darkness  of  the  papal 
night  and  heralding  the  "  dawai  of  the  true  light,"  was 
of  our  own  kith  and  lineage.     To  ourselves  belongs  the 


14  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

second  father  of  the  faithful — the  first-born  of  the  Ref- 
ormation. 

It  is  a  somewhat  curious,  if  not  significant,  fact  that 
the  first  historic  mention,  so  far  as  my  reading  has 
shown,  to  be  found  of  the  now  familiar  and  sacred 
word  "  Reformation,"  is  from  the  lips  of  a  fimous  Eng- 
lishman, Winfrith  of  Devon,  who  is  better  known  in 
story  as  Boniface,  the  Apostle  of  Germany,  and  who, 
with  all  his  respect  and  labors  for  Rome,  w^as,  like  a 
true-born  and  an  independent  Briton,  often  found  pro- 
testing vigorously  against  papal  abuses,  and  that  as 
early  as  the  year  723. 

And  now,  almost  exactly  seven  hundred  years  after 
the  bold  Thuringian  missionary,  comes  his  scholarly 
and  sainted  countryman  to  break  the  yoke — John  de 
Wycliffe,  of  Yorkshire,  who  was  born  somewhere  about 
the  second  decade  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  died 
December  31,  1384. 

About  1336.]       The  Young  Oxonian. 

We  stand  in  that  most  perfect  of  retreats  for  the 
scholarly  recluse  and  the  ardent  seeker  of  knowledge, 
Oxford,  that  magnificent  and  unique  city  of  colleges, 
lying  between  the  Isis  and  the  Cherwell.  Points  in 
your  travels  you  reach,  as  the  gray  rock  of  Calpe,  that 
marvellous  Gibraltar,  and  the  Goth-haunted  Ravenna, 
where  you  see  move  past  in  striking  forms  the  world's 
story.  Oxford  is  such  a  panoramic  spot.  If  you  hang, 
in  your  easy  holiday  time,  over  the  parapet  of  Folly 
Bridge,  or  loiter  on  the  Magdalen,  and  suffer,  as  you 
well  may,  your  garrulous  guide  to  tell  the  foibles  and 
the  facts  of  this  seat  of  the  Saxon  Witenagemotes,  you 
will  first  see  the  burning  of  Troy  and  the  far-fljing  ex- 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        15 

iles  who  came  from  Ilium  to  the  Isis,  then  the  Roman 
legions,  then  the  Saxons  and  godly  Fridewide,  then  stu- 
dious Alfred  and  the  kings  of  Mercia,  then  the  Norman 
William  and  his  line,  then  Sir  Thomas  More  and  Eras- 
mus, then  bluff  King  Hal  and  the  lying  Stuarts ;  and 
while  all  this  world's  centuries,  full  of  life  and  fraught 
richly  with  the  forces  making  our  strange  to-day,  pass 
swiftly  yet  steadily,  in  cloud  and  sunshine,  across  the 
forefront  of  the  stage,  the  background  is  filled  with 
monumental  spires  and  towers  and  domes,  with  halls 
and  churches  and  crosses,  with  gardens  and  meadows 
and  venerable  trees,  the  abiding  proofs  of  the  shadowy 
dead.  Oxford  !  home  and  mother  of  reformers  !  thou 
art,  alas  !  fallen  now  on  evil  days,  when  disguised  papists 
refuse  to  suffer  thee  to  join  the  Protestant  world  in  these 
great  commemorations  ! 

Here,  somewhere  about  1335  or  1337,  might  have 
been  observed  for  the  first  time  a  right  noticeable  young 
Yorkshireman,  of  some  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  age ; 
he  is  of  an  erect  carriage  and  a  quick,  firm  step,  with  a 
tall,  slender,  well-shaped,  wiry  frame,  broad  of  brow,  with 
face  attractive  and  expressive,  with  keen  and  very  deep- 
set  eyes,  nose  large  and  aquiline,  and  resolute  yet  sym- 
pathetic mouth.  He  walked  about  a  bold,  manifest  man, 
and  yet  with  the  easy  air  and  courtesy  of  the  child  of  a 
good  home.  Senior  men,  quick  to  mark  the  freshmen 
and  eager  to  know  the  coming  stars,  asked  at  once, 
"  Who  and  whence  is  he  ?"  And  they  were  told  that 
he  was  a  "  gentleman-commoner,"  one  John  de  Wj^cliife, 
the  remarkable  and  well-schooled  son  of  an  old  and  re- 
spectable family,  whose  home  was  at  Wycliffe,  or  Water- 
cliffe,  a  rocky  hill  above  the  Tees,  some  ten  miles  to  the 
north  of  Richmond,  in  Yorkshire.     Worthy  represent- 


16  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

ative  of  that  grand  old  county,  the  home  for  centuries 
of  big,  bony,  of  strong,  straightforward,  of  free,  fight- 
ing men,  that  shelter  of  the  true  Anglo-Saxon,  with  his 
pluck  and  push  and  perseverance,  that  broad  stretch  of 
breezy  wolds  and  bright  waters,  of  rocky  hills  and 
pleasing  valleys,  was  the  young  Oxonian ;  and  clearly 
stamped  was  he  by  the  scenes  of  his  birth  and  his  earli- 
est associations  and  companionships. 

He  has  arrived  at  Oxford  at  one  of  her  supremely- 
stimulating  seasons.  England  is  in  the  fever  of  one 
of  her  great  and  ever-recurring  periods  of  change  and 
bloodless  revolution.  Oxford  is  a  marked  focus.  Eng- 
land is  emphatically  and  historically  the  land  of  national 
opinions,  of  independent  thinking  and  of  private  judg- 
ment. At  this  time  the  mind  of  England  was  the  most 
active,  independent  and  fully  occupied  with  national  and 
political  ideas  of  all  the  European  lands.  It  was  not 
indeed  the  most  polite,  refined  and  cultured  ;  but  by  far 
distances  it  was  the  boldest  and  most  self-reliant.  Many 
forces  had  wrought,  many  new  forces  were  working,  to- 
gether to  make  it  grow  "  English  :"  its  very  insularity, 
the  many  fierce  struggles,  with  all  their  varied  results, 
between  British-Celt  and  Saxon,  between  Saxon  and 
Dane,  between  Anglo-Saxon  and  Norman-French  ;  the 
first  conflicts  of  the  conquerors  and  conquered,  and  then 
their  mutual  approaches,  and  final  fusion ;  the  long, 
fierce  and  strikingly-interesting  and  richly-instructive 
contests  between  the  old  national  church  of  Britain  and 
the  ever-aggressive,  rapacious  and  despotic  church  of 
the  Vatican,  as  seen  in  the  stern  struggle  of  William 
with  Lanfranc,  Henry  with  a  Becket,  and  Edward  with 
the  Pope ;  the  war  of  the  Barons,  supported  by  and 
sympathizing  with   the  free   commoners  and   the  large 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        17 

towns,  against  the  craven-souled  John,  assisted  by  the 
Romish  hierarchs  and  the  Pope ;  the  arguments  ovei' 
Magna  Charta  and  the  early  strifes  in  the  young  Par- 
liament ;  the  rise  and  the  reassertion  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  masses  and  of  their  local  rights, — these  and 
many  other  causes  had  made  the  land  one  great  debat- 
ing-hall;  and  the  discussions  grew  hottest  about  the 
opening  of  the  fourteenth  century.  Oxford  was  conse- 
quently ringing  with  the  burning  questions  of  the  day. 
The  city  of  colleges  was  the  very  centre  of  these  con- 
stitutional contests.  Let  all  free  lands  honor  and  en- 
courage colleges  ;  they  are  and  have  been  the  homes  of 
liberty ;  they  have  often  taught  and  trained  the  best 
and  grandest  champions  of  reform. 

Into  the  life  of  Oxford  stepped  this  fresh  and  forceful 
youth.  Around  him  sounded  mighty  names  ;  and  unto 
him  impulsive  memories  thickly  gathered.  He  saw  the 
busts  of  the  great  dead,  and  he  sat  listening  to  the  stir- 
ring lectures  of  splendid  Englishmen  who  had  all  fos- 
tered and  guided  the  national  spirit.  Three  majestic 
churchmen,  one  just  deceased,  two  still  living,  rose  up 
before  him  easily  princes  among  all  the  teachers  of  the 
Church  and  the  guides  of  the  college  councils.  The 
British  spirit  has  been  often  seen  in  the  clergy  of 
Britain.  Beware  how  you  ever  directly  or  indirectly 
shut  out  the  ministry  of  truth  and  righteousness  from 
a  free,  full  share  in  the  working  of  national  affairs 
and  the  discussion  of  great  national  questions.  Great 
churchmen  have  been  always  great  patriots  in  free  coun- 
tries, and  often  great  statesmen.  From  time  to  time  the 
English  Church  of  those  early  days  had  furnished  very 
remarkable  men.  Passing  a  Becket,  Anselm  and  Lan- 
franc,  regard  for  a  few  moments,  because  closely  and 


18  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

most  vitally  linked  with  Wycliffe,  three  great  church- 
men of  Oxford.  First  and  far  ahead  stands  the  great 
Bishop  of  Lincoln,  Robert  Greathead  (Grossetete  or 
Capito),  born  in  1175,  graduating  at  Merton  when  only 
twenty-three,  rapidly  distinguishing  himself  in  all  the 
studies  of  the  college,  advancing  quickly  to  an  easy 
primacy  in  all  branches  of  that'  century's  knowledge, 
and  thereafter  reigning  as  the  unchallenged  king  in  the 
intellectual  realm.  This  was  the  man  before  whom  even 
Roger  Bacon  bowed,  saying,  "  He  is  the  only  man  liv- 
ing in  possession  of  all  the  sciences."  This  noble  and 
self-denying  prelate  of  the  largest  and  most  populous 
see  then  in  England  was  the  great  reform-bishop  of  his 
day  :  busy  was  he  ever  in  preaching  a  large  gospel, 
remedying  abuses  and  forcing  idle  clergymen  to  do  their 
duty ;  he  was  the  bold  Samuel  to  rebuke  Henry  the 
Third  and  the  daring  preacher  of  righteousness  to  face 
even  Innocent  the  Fourth  and  to  say  bluntly  before  the 
whole  papal  court,  "  Root  out  your  notorious  corrup- 
tions, else  destruction  will  be  your  portion."  This  was 
the  fearless  Englishman  who,  in  answer  to  the  papal 
briefs  appointing,  contrary  to  all  right,  Frederick  of  La- 
vagna  to  an  English  benefice,  launched  a  red-hot  thun- 
derbolt at  the  Pope  which  electrified  the  whole  English 
people,  flung  an  awful  light  on  the  despotic  and  disso- 
lute Romish  court,  and  did  not  spend  its  terrific  force 
for  many  long  days  after  the  brave  Jove  who  hurled  it 
had  vanished  from  the  earth.  Robert  of  Lincoln  started 
questions  that  culminated  in  Latimer's  day.  King  and 
people  canonized  him,  though  the  Pope  would  not. 

He  was  followed  by  a  man  living,  certainly,  in  Wyc- 
liffe's  youth,  scholarly  Thomas  Bradwardine,  "  doctor 
profundus."  mathematician  and  astronomer,  and  al)Ove 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        19 

all  the  asserter  against  all  Pelagianism  of  God's  free 
grace  in  salvation.  This  masterly  student  of  Augustine 
and  of  Paul,  who  was  converted  as  he  read  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans,  wrote  the  famous  "  De  Causa  Dei,"  and. 
became  one  of  the  great  educators  of  John  Wycliflfe, 
and  through  him  of  Huss  and  the  Bohemians. 

With  him  was  joined  Richard  Fitzralph,  "Armach- 
anus,"  who  brought  out  into  startling  light  and  stated 
with  pungent  and  most  suggestive  fullness  the  distinc- 
tions between  apostolic  Christianity  and  arrogant  Rome. 
This  Richard  of  Armagh  was  one  of  the  Reformer's 
teachers,  and  a  very  determinant  force  in  his  develop- 
ment. 

To  these  churchmen  must  be  joined  three  other  great 
names,  then  often  heard  in  Oxford — a  peer,  a  prince 
and  a  philosopher ; — the  great  peer  who  made  the  Eng- 
lish House  of  Commons  and  fought  the  battle  of  the 
people  against  the  Pope ;  the  great  Prince  Edward  who 
repelled  the  usurpations  of  the  ever-encroaching  Roman 
see;  and  still  more  the  great  philosopher  William  of 
Occam,  who  by  his  keen  logic  and  sound  metaphysics 
prepared  the  way  for  Wycliff'e's  exact  though  revolu- 
tionary views  on  transubstantiation  and  other  false  doc- 
trines of  the  papacy. 

These  are  the  names  of  glory  sounding  and  these  the 
formative  forces  at  work  at  Oxford  when  one  enters  her 
classic  retreats,  who  by  immense  distance  shall  be  her 
greater  name  and  mightier  force. 

What  hall  Wycliffe  at  first  entered  cannot  now  be 
known  positively.  Tradition  and  that  painstaking  and 
thoroughly-competent  historian  Vaughan  say  it  was 
Queen's  College.  But  there  are  serious  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  our  accepting  this  view.     Lechler,  Lorimer 


20  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

and  others  assign  the  young  student  to  Balliol.  which 
had  been  founded  by  a  friend  and  patron  of  the  Wyc- 
liffe  family,  Sir  John  Balliol,  the  father  of  the  famous 
king  of  Scotland. 

Wherever  he  was  enrolled,  John  immediately  showed 
his  mettle.  Quick  and  penetrating,  with  well-balanced 
mind,  ardent  thirst  for  knowledge,  untiring  industry, 
A^aried  gifts  and  tenacious  memory,  he  sought  all  the 
learning  and  culture  then  available,  and  passed  steadily, 
far  ahead  of  all  competitors,  through  his  "Trivium" 
and  "Quadrivium."  He  proved  to  have  a  special  faculty 
and  pronounced  taste  for  natural  philosophy,  and  a  yet 
more  decided  bent  for  logic,  ethics  and  rhetoric.  His 
powers  were  well  and  symmetrically  cultivated.  He 
became  the  keenest  dialectician  of  the  schools,  brilliant, 
swift,  thoughtful.  No  so  victorious  lance  to  be  met  as 
he  in  the  fierce  and  frequent  tourneys  of  the  schools, 
till  with  the  fame  of  repeated  conquests  he  stood 
crowned  as  the  unchallenged  chief.  Mathematics,  phys- 
ics and  chemistry  he  so  mastered  that  his  sermons, 
even  in  his  old  age,  are  full  of  illustrations  thence  sup- 
plied. Few  things  are  more  striking  in  the  histories  of 
these  noble  men,  who  reformed  the  Church,  than  the 
faithful  discharge  of  their  collegiate  duties  and  the 
brilliant  success  that  ever  marked  their  way.  The 
exact  logician  and  well-trained  debater  is  next  seen 
devoting  himself  with  heightened  resolution  and  all- 
glowing  enthusiasm  to  the  loftier  philosophy  and  to 
that  theology  in  which  all  thoroughly-pursued  research 
must  finally  conclude.  Soon  he  is  the  recognized 
Achilles  in  this  field;  and  when,  in  1345,  he  took  his 
junior  degree  in  these  two  closely-allied  departments 
of  philosophy  and  theology,  he  was  the  foremost  Keen- 


''the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        21 

tiate  of  his  day.  He  was  availing  himself  of  all  God 
gave  him  in  Oxford ;  and  that  Lord  who  educated 
Moses  in  Hierapolis  and  David  on  the  pasturage  for 
their  respective  fields  is  preparing  the  opener  of  "  the 
long  debate"  for  his  grand  arena.  When  God's  moment 
strikes,  God's  man  shall  be  ready. 

This  distinguished  student  is  also  a  man  of  affairs, 
discretion  and  of  true  business  energy.  At  Bruges  and 
Lutterworth  he  yet  will  need  it  all ;  and  the  occasion 
for  the  exercise  of  his  administrative  powers  and  a  field 
for  the  acquisition  of  experience  is  now  afforded.  An- 
other college  has  fixed  her  eyes  on  Wycliffe ;  and  in 
1356  Merton  College  (according  to  Lewis,  and  all  the 
subsequent  examination  leaves  in  my  judgment  the 
evidence  untouched)  calls  him  to  a  fellowship  and  ap- 
points him  seneschal.  His  name  may  still  be  found  on 
the  rolls  of  Merton. 

In  1361  Wycliffe,  having  proved  his  ability  at  Mer- 
ton, is  made  master  of  Balliol,  and  becomes  thereby  the 
incumbent  of  Abbotesley  in  Huntingdon.  He  is  now 
in  orders  and  one  of  the  powers  of  the  University 
government.  The  knowledge  of  men,  the  mastery  of 
youth,  the  education  of  office,  the  hardening  and  con- 
firming influences  of  responsibility,  are  telling  on  the 
man  yet  to  be  the  king's  counsellor  and  Parliamentary 
commissioner,  and  the  champion  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty. 

Two  other  forces  are  telling  upon  him,  and  they  are 
prophetic.  His  closely-read  Bible  is  already  making 
him  very  mighty  in  the  Scriptures ;  and  his  favorite 
recreations  of  walking  out  into  the  country  and  of  enter- 
ing the  farm-houses  and  the  cottages  of  the  poor,  where 
he  is  well  known  and  heartily  welcomed,  and  of  read- 


22  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

iiiii  the  Scriptures  to  the  people  in  their  own  tongue 
and  of  hearing  their  (juaint,  pithy  remarks,  are  slowly 
but  surely  making  him  master  of  the  common  speech 
of  the  common  folk.  His  kindly  heart  and  his  love  of 
nature  are  leading  the  popular  preacher  and  the  great 
translator  to  a  splendid  school. 

1363.]  II.  The  Evangelic  Doctor. 

Wycliffe  is  now  advanced  to  a  new  dignity  and  made 
University  teacher  in  theology.  The  young  master  of 
Balliol  is,  according  to  Shirley,  given  his  Doctor's  de- 
gree in  1363 ;  and,  by  the  usage  of  the  times,  with  the 
degree  he  is  authorized  and  expected  to  become  public 
lecturer  on  philosophy  and  theology.  For  this  position 
his  thorough  training  as  undergraduate,  his  full  ten- 
years  course  for  his  Master's  degree,  and  then  ten 
years  more  of  constant  reading  in  the  Fathers  and  the 
Schoolmen,  had  made  him  singularly  fitted. 

The  times  were  growing  daily  more  exciting.  Great 
questions  were  abroad.  The  friend  of  the  people  would 
respond  to  the  feelings  of  the  populace ;  the  patriotic 
Englishman  to  the  voice  of  his  country ;  the  admirer  of 
Greathead,  the  student  of  Bradwardine  and  of  Bracton — 
that  pre-eminent  jurist  of  the  middle  age — and  the  dis- 
tinguished debater  of  Balliol,  to  the  stirring  constitu- 
tional demands  of  the  hour ;  and  Wycliffe  was  the  chief 
of  the  University  in  each  of  these  fields.  In  that  glory- 
hour  of  Edward  the  Third,  the  victor  of  Cressy,  the 
conqueror  of  Calais,  the  scourge  of  the  Scots  and  the 
captor  at  Poitiers  of  King  John  of  France,  w^io  was 
even  then  an  honored  prisoner  in  London,  the  national 
feeling  which  had  declined  during  the  unfortunate  days 
of  the  Bruce-beaten  Edward  and  the  disgraceful  regency 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        23 

of  the  dissolute  Isabella  was  once  more  glowing  red-hot. 
England  had  conquered  Scotland,  and  held  the  half  of 
France.  The  king  and  the  Black  Prince,  the  nobles 
and  the  people,  had  formed  a  unit  such  as  shall  not  be 
seen  again  till  the  days  of  Elizabeth  and  the  Spanish 
Armada.  "  Britons,  Saxons  and  Normans,"  to  use  Wyc- 
liflfe's  own  terms,  "  are  no  more ;  all  now  are  English." 
The  speech  of  the  people  was  now  rapidly  becoming 
the  tongue  of  the  churchmen  and  of  the  lawyers  at  the 
bar;  and  Rome  had  become  for  them  all  the  tyrant 
and  the  aggressor.  One  resolution  was  in  every  breast, 
from  the  knightly  king  confronting  Urban  the  Fifth  to 
the  peasant  refusing  the  unjust  demands  of  the  robber- 
monks — we  will  resist  the  Romish  see  and  keep  our 
freedom.  "  Britons  never  shall  be  slaves  "  might  even 
then  have  been  heard  sounding  through  the  English  air. 
Never  had  been  known  a  day  when  so  powerful  a  stimulus 
had  been  supplied  to  the  life  of  the  country  and  such  sud- 
den growth  come  to  the  national  spirit  and  patriotic  dar- 
ing. That  spirit  was  most  intense  in  the  young  men  of 
the  land ;  and  of  the  youth  the  very  flower  was  found 
at  Oxford.  These  hot-hearted  and  bold-souled  young 
patriots  are  now  crowding  the  class-rooms  of  the  young 
doctor  of  canon  and  constitutional  law ;  with  them  are 
young,  rising  lawyers ;  with  the  lawyers  are  seen  the 
young  aspirants  for  holy  orders,  knowing  what  avenues 
of  fame  and  fortune  are  open  to  them  ;  with  them  are  the 
young  and  most  daring  members  of  that  great  Parliament 
to  which  Edward  has  so  wisely  referred  the  decision  of 
that  burning  national  question,  whether  the  king  of  "Eng- 
land as  the  feudatory  of  the  Pope  shall  pay  tribute  and 
the  arrears  of  thirty-three  years  never  till  now  claimed. 
Up    before    this    audience    rises    the    skilled   logician, 


24  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

the  luminous  lawyer  who  had  mastered  Bracton  and 
Bradwardiiie,  the  great  churchman  who  is  now  recog- 
nized as  the  successor  of  the  canonized  Capito,  the 
shrew^d,  strong-brained  Englishman  who  is  all  aglow 
with  patriotic  fire.  Clearly  and  fully  the  question  is 
stated,  then  quickly  and  comprehensively  are  presented 
the  papal  complaints  and  demands  and  the  arguments 
in  support  of  these  employed  by  the  papal  lawyers ; 
then  comes  a  panoramic  review  of  the  past ;  the  grand 
figure  of  Thomas  a  Becket  walks  across  the  stage,  the 
gathering  at  Runnymede  starts  into  full  view,  the  pro- 
visions of  Magna  Charta  are  told  and  the  craven  John 
and  the  conquered  Pope  set  forth,  the  perversions  of 
Roman  and  canon  law  exposed,  and  then  the  honor  of 
the  country  is  maintained  in  closing  sentences  that 
stirred  the  youth  to  feverish  enthusiasm  and  the  older 
men  to  very  tears.  Wycliffe  leads  the  way  to  national 
freedom.  That  teaching  so  appears  and  reappears  in 
the  debates  and  speeches  and  documents  of  Parliament 
that  Lechler  will  make  the  great  canonist  to  have  been 
actually  the  leader  of  the  House  in  that  memorable 
struggle.     Of  that  notion  I  find  no  adequate  proof. 

Those  thrilling  lectures  bound  the  youth  to  John 
Wycliffe.  Then  by  guile  for  higher  things  he  caught 
them.  Dear  as  was  England,  Christ  had  now^  grown 
much  dearer,  and  with  Christ  the  Word,  Wycliffe  had 
come  to  love  the  word  of  Christ.  God's  truth  and  God's 
grace  are  now  his  grandest  themes.  The  student  of  Aqui- 
nas and  Augustine  and  the  scholarly  disciple  of  Paul  is 
pained  by  the  rampant  Pelagianism  of  the  hour ;  and  he 
begins  to  lecture  upon  Bradwardine's  "  De  Causa  Dei' 
and  his  chief  theme  the  grace  of  God.  In  setting  forth 
the  source  of  salvation  the  sreat  student  makes  Augus- 


''  THE    MORNING    STAR    OF    THE    REFORMATION."  25 

tine  and  Stephen  Langton,  Peter  Lombard,  Alexander 
Alesius,  the  "  irrefragable  doctor,"  Albertus  Magnus  and 
Thomas  Aquinas,  the  "  angelical  doctor,"  appear  again 
and  again  upon  the  side  of  truth  and  grace  till  he  gains 
himself  the  noble  name  of  the  Evangelical  Doctor. 

But  better  than  to  Fathers  and  Schoolmen,  this  ripe 
and  reverent  teacher,  who  is  head  of  the  biblical  school, 
is  leading  his  pupils,  among  whom  Chaucer  is  said  to 
have  been  one,  directly  to  the  word  of  God.  Teaching  the 
Scriptures,  he  learns  to  accept  them  as  the  final  word  in 
controversy ;  and  soon,  as  Neander  says,  you  find  him 
declaring  the  Word  to  be  the  rule  of  faith  and  practice. 

These  lectures  are  the  great  theme  of  the  students. 
They  form  "the  new  book  of  the  season"  The  friars 
and  bold  beggars  of  various  orders  see  that  from  the 
teaching  of  the  Canonist  and  the  lessons  of  the  Biblicist 
their  craft  is  in  danger,  and  they  attack  the  Evangelical 
Doctor.  Controversy  rises.  Wycliffe  is  forced  to  study 
the  question  from  new  standpoints  ;  and  each  fresh  sur- 
vey drives  him  farther  from  the  Roman  position  and 
nearer  to  the  reformed  and  the  biblical.  The  monks 
now  complain  at  Rome.  Wycliffe  is  now  the  marked 
man  at  Rome ;  but  he  is  one  of  the  masterly  men  of 
England.  Attention  is  fixed  upon  him.  His  actions 
are  canvassed.  His  words  are  studied  and  searched. 
His  fast-showering  tracts  are  everywhere  and  eagerly 
read.  The  professor  is  the  pet  patriot  and  the  widest 
preacher  in  the  realm.  People,  peers  and  prince  re- 
spect him.  The  University  adds  honor  to  honor.  The 
Lord  is  making  his  influence  mighty  in  the  land.  And 
out  from  England  he  goes  with  the  young  French  nobles 
to  Paris  and  with  the  Germans  to  the  Fatherland  and 
into  the  Netherlands,  and  even   Spain.     Out  from  his 


26  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

1-ooins  at  Oxford  this  many-sided  and  broadly-human 
man  looks  with  interest  and  intelligence  upon  every 
land  of  Europe^  and  sees  in  each  a  student,  a  corre- 
spondent or  an  antagonist.  In  every  church  question 
this  Rector  of  Fillingham  is  a  busy  controversialist. 
With  every  new  phase  of  the  national  strife  this  noble 
patriot  must  acquaint  himself,  for  he  must  have  his 
answer  for  king  and  Parliament  ready.  And  over  every 
ballad  of  the  people  this  lover  of  his  countrymen  and 
curious  student  of  folk  lore  is  sure  to  look  carefully. 
He  is  preparing  for  the  open  war  which  shall  now  begin, 
not  to  end  for  him  even  in  death. 

1365.]  III.  The  Warden  of  Canterbury  Hall. 

The  patrons  of  learning  at  that  time  were  many  in 
England  :  their  gifts  were  large  and  frequent,  and  col- 
leges were  consequently  rapidly  multiplying  in  the  land. 
Oxford,  the  chief  intellectual,  as  well  as  political  and 
ecclesiastical,  centre,  the  pride  and  the  hope  of  English 
patriots,  scholars  and  great  churchmen,  received  a  spe- 
cially large  share  of  the  donations  and  the  foundations. 
Among  others  the  good  and  generous  Islip,  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  was  moved  to  found  in  Oxford  a  new 
hall  where  Christian  men  might,  being  freed  from  all 
want  and  care  and  having  ample  leisure  and  suitable 
appliances,  devote  themselves  to  the  higher  philosophy 
and  to  the  pursuit  of  science  after  the  new  methods  of 
that  far-seeing  genius  Roger  Bacon,  the  forerunner  and 
probable  guide  of  the  better-known  Francis  Bacon.  This 
hall  was  called  Canterbury  Hall,  which  was  afterwards 
merged  in  that  right  royal  college  of  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
and  lives  on  in  the  stately  pile  of  Christ  Church.  The 
founder  had  been  fellow  student  and  some  time  pupil 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."       27 

of  the  great  logician.  He  had  marked  and  admired 
the  characteristic  Yorkshire  shrewdness,  promptness, 
faithfulness  and  tirelessness  of  the  young  seneschal  of 
Merton  and  the  master  of  Balliol ;  he  had  followed  with 
watchful  interest  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  growth 
of  the  Evangelical  Doctor ;  he  had  felt  his  enthusiasm, 
his  magnetic  power  and  his  glowing  love  for  truth  and 
right ;  he  had  heard  and  read  his  patriotic  pleadings 
and  his  pointed  philippics  against  the  begging  friars, 
"  those  church-fleas  and  college-leeches  ;"  he  knew  how 
the  ardent  professor  was  with  all  his  love  of  science 
and  his  great  philosophical  predilections  making  Oxford 
resound  with  biblical  truth,  and  was  actively  preaching 
in  the  "  plain  words  of  the  simple  people  God's  law  and 
God's  word ;"  and  further,  that  the  great  preacher-pro- 
fessor was  training  and  sending  out  many  young  men 
as  evangelists  over  the  land.  Hence  in  the  early  months 
of  1365  the  good  archbishop  made  the  Evangelical  Doc- 
tor master  of  Canterbury  Hall.  This  appointment  was 
the  battle-gage.  The  master  of  Canterbury  and  the 
monks  of  Rome  come  into  conflict.  Chaucer  points  out 
the  contrast. 

The  monks,  furious  that  their  own  champion  Wood- 
hull  had  lost  the  rich  and  influential  wardenship,  and 
raging  with  unbounded  wrath  that  Wycliffe,  their  foe 
and  exposer,  had  been  placed  in  a  position  of  such 
prominence  and  power,  declared  war  at  once.  Wycliffe 
lifted  the  gauntlet ;  the  war  began,  and  it  was  war  to 
the  knife — war  without  quarter  down  through  the  rest 
of  Wycliffe's  life,  and  over  his  grave ;  war  in  England 
carried  on  by  Oldcastle  and  Lollard ;  war  in  Bohemia 
through  Milicz  and  Huss";  war  in  Constance  and  Swit- 
zerland ;    war  in  Italy  and   Flanders,  in   Saxony  and 


28  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

Scotland ;  yes,  war  down  to  our  hour.  Rome  will  have 
no  schools,  or  she  must  be  ruler  of  them  ! 

The  monks  w^ere  no  match  for  the  master.  They 
write  lampoons ;  Wycliffe  replies  in  tracts  that  are 
stinging  scorpions.  They  put  to  Avork  their  coarsest 
libellers ;  Wycliffe  makes  all  England  laugh  by  his 
bluff  humor  and  his  true  wit.  They  point  to  Rome's 
law ;  Wycliffe  points  to  Magna  Charta  and  the  acts  of 
Parliament.  They  quote  canon  law ;  Wycliffe  states 
God's  huv.  They  call  in  the  Pope  as  authority ;  Wyc- 
liffe confronts  them  with  Christ.  They  appeal  to  the 
great  councils  ;  Wycliffe  to  the  Christian  conscience  and 
the  day  of  judgment,  and  Jesus  as  the  Lord  of  lords. 

It  was,  no  doubt,  a  small  quarrel  in  itself,  like 
Luther's  with  Tetzel  and  Huss'  with  Sbynko,  but  it 
involved  as  vast  issues ;  and  at  last  they  became  the 
real  centre  of  this  hotter-waxing  fight. 

With  Wycliffe  stood  the  students  and  colleges,  the 
great  Parliamentarians,  the  prominent  lawyers,  the  chief 
nobles,  and  the  king  and  the  Black  Prince.  With  the 
monks,  the  "  swarms  of  foul  friars,"  the  "  lazy  pre- 
bends" and  prelates,  and  three  plotting,  ambitious, 
Rome-courting  churchmen. 

The  death  of  Islip,  on  the  26th  day  of  April,  L366, 
makes  the  growing  fight  still  fiercer ;  for  the  primacy 
now  passes  to  a  violent  foe  of  Wycliffe,  the  former 
monk  Simon  Langham,  who  immediately  orders  Wyc- 
liffe to  resign  the  hall,  which  has  fallen  now  under  his 
patronage.  The  bold  man,  conscious  of  his  rectitude, 
the  able  lawyer,  convinced  of  his  rights,  and  the  friend 
of  the  founder,  possessed  of  full  proofs  as  to  Islip's 
meaning  and  wishes,  point  blank  refuses  to  go. 

Simon  Langham  a[)peals  to  the  Pope  in  opposition  to 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        29 

the  warden.     For  three  years  the  war  is  waged ;  and 
at  last  Wycliffe  is  ousted,  about  1371. 

Back  to  his  University-teaching  Wycliffe  now  turns. 
Freed  from  all  official  responsibility,  the  strong  man 
strips  for  a  fresh  and  fiercer  fight.  The  gloves  are  cast 
aside.  The  hitting  is  fast,  straight  from  the  shoulder, 
and  every  blow  tells.  The  trained  lawyer  has  been 
making  himself  the  great  master  of  English  law ;  the 
disciple  of  Aquinas  and  the  church-jurists  has  been 
searching  into  the  usurpations  of  the  Vatican  and  the 
forged  decretals ;  the  travelling  patriot  and  preacher 
knows  exactly  the  temper  of  the  land ;  the  Bible- 
student,  in  whom  now  the  word  dwells  richly,  is  verily 
the  master  of  the  situation.  As  the  stalwart  York- 
shireman  was  stepping  out  into  that  fierce  fight,  he 
might  well  say  with  Artavelde, 

"  What  must  be  must !     My  course  hath  been  appointed, 
For  I  feel  that  within  me  which  accords 
With  what  I  have  to  do.     The  field  is  fair, 
And  I  have  no  perplexity  or  cloud 
Upon  my  vision.     Everything  is  clear. 
I  take  this  with  me  for  my  comfort  too — 
That  man  is  not  the  most  in  tribulation 
Who,  resolute  of  mind,  walks  his  own  way 
With  answerable  skill  to  plant  his  steps. 
Lo  !  with  the  chivalry  of  Christendom 
I  wage  my  war !  having  hosts  of  friends — 
The  bondsmen  of  the  world !  who  to  their  lords 
Are  bound  with  chains  of  iron  ;  unto  me 
Are  knit  by  their  affections  !     Be  it  so  ! 
With  the  poor 
I  make  my  treaty  ;  and  the  heart  of  man 
Sets  the  broad  seal  of  its  allegiance  thereon, 
And  ratifies  the  compact." 

There  is  no  mincing  of  words  now ;   no  hesitancy  in 
the  sledgehammer  blows  of  his  fast-rained  tracts.     As 


30  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

Neander  puts  it,  Wycliffe  is  now  teaching  "  that  the 
clergy  in  civil  suits  shall  be  brought  before  secular 
courts,  since  this,  although  contrary  to  ecclesiastical 
laws,  was  grounded  in  the  ancient  practice  of  the  Eng- 
lish realm,  in  the  constitution  of  the  state,  in  the  laws 
of  nature,  and  in  holy  Scriptures ;"  "  that  the  ultimate 
standard  of  faith  and  law  is  God's  word,  and  the  grand 
problem  of  church-evolution  is  to  reform  everything 
according  to  the  principles  therein  contained;"  "that 
the  complaints  about  Roman  extortion,  tyranny,  ar- 
bitrary interferences,  church-corruptions  and  scandals 
were  just;"  and  "that  the  usurpations  of  the  Popes" 
must  be  stopped  by  the  king  and  Commons. 

Bold  words !  and  England,  then  in  a  momentous 
crisis,  hailed  them  with  delight.  Into  tracts  these  sug- 
gestive sayings  went,  and  passed  to  Ireland,  France,  Ger- 
many, Italy  and  Bohemia,  where  in  old  libraries  to-day 
are  found  in  numbers  tLese  manuscripts  full  of  Wycliffe's 
teaching.  Their  effect  was  immense,  and  was  seen  over 
all  Europe.  But  the  chief  result  was  found  in  England, 
which  was  then  in  the  throes  of  one  of  her  great  Par- 
liamentary conflicts  and  constitutional  agitations.  She 
had  just  lately  been  defeated  in  France ;  the  city  of 
Rochelle  had  fallen ;  the  English  fleet  was  shattered ; 
the  Black  Prince  was  sick  to  death ;  the  Commons,  in 
order  to  raise  the  subsidies  needed  by  Edward,  were 
proposing  the  taxation  of  the  rich  monasteries,  church- 
houses  and  foundations ;  the  bold  Parliament  passed 
bills  and  persuaded  Edward  to  sign  them  removing  the 
Romish  prelates  from  the  great  state  offices  and  then 
to  fill  the  Privy  Council  with  laymen  opposed  to  the 
exactions  and  usurpations  of  Rome. 

Verily  the  fallow  ground  was  thoroughly  broken  up 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        31 

and  was  ready  for  the  seed  and  the  sower.  Wycliffe's 
words  fell  not  to  the  ground.  King,  peers,  Commons 
and  people  took  them  up ;  they  were  repeated  in  the 
House,  and  they  were  sung  in  ballads  on  the  streets. 
Then  really  began  Parliamentary  and  Protestant  Eng- 
land. In  "  the  making  of  England "  Wycliflfe  had  a 
large  share.  Oxford  shall  soon  be  left  for  a  wider 
sphere  and  for  stormier  scenes. 

Ap.  1374.]       IV.  The  King's  Favorite. 

This  patriotic  churchman,  this  popular  yet  profound 
preacher,  this  evangelical  doctor,  is  now  the  man  "whom 
the  king  delighteth  to  honor."  No  mean  king  either, 
that  great  Edward  of  Cressy  and  Poitiers,  that  fosterer 
of  the  free  Parliaments,  that  worthy  grandson  of  the 
English  Justinian,  in  whose  reign  of  fifty-one  years 
"  a  greater  number  of  important  laws  had  been  passed 
than  in  all  the  preceding  reigns  since  the  Conquest ;" 
"trial  by  jury  had  begun  to  supersede  other  modes  of 
trial,  and  justices  of  the  peace  to  make  their  earliest 
appearance,"  and  "architecture  and  poetry,"  represented 
by  Chaucer,  Gower  and  the  Chroniclers,  "  had  obtained 
a  grand  development."  This  Edward  the  Third,  gifted 
with  the  keenest  eye  for  strong  helpers,  was  quite  fa- 
miliar with  and  very  fond  of  the  splendid  Oxonian. 
Lechler  maintains  that  Edward  gave  Wycliffe  a  seat 
in  the  "  Good  Parliament ;"  but  after  careful  review 
of  all  the  probable  evidence  submitted  by  the  pains- 
taking German,  and  with  Lorimer's  additions,  I  must 
hand  in  the  verdict,  "  not  proven." 

Many  and  marked,  however,  are  the  royal  favors  for 
which  we  have  abundant  historic  evidence.  Wycliffe  en- 
joyed the  singular  confidence  of  the  king,  to  whom  he 


32  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

was  either  "private  chaplain,"  or,  as  I  would  prefer  to 
translate  the  much-debated  phrase,  "^  the  private  sec- 
retary," of  the  king.  Edward  gave  him  several  pre- 
bends ;  then  in  1368  opened  his  way  to  the  rectory  of 
Ludgershall,  Buckinghamshire;  then  in  1373  he  placed 
the  energetic  counsellor  on  the  foundation  of  Anst,  near 
Bristol;  and  in  April,  1374,  had  him  appointed  to  the 
historic  and  honored  parish  of  Lutterworth,  Leicester- 
shire, the  birthplace  of  the  first  English  Bible.  This 
token  of  royal  favor  was  quickly  followed  by  another 
appointment  of  vast  value  to  the  now  monk-hated 
preacher  of  the  gospel,  the  Rome-cursed  defender  of 
the  Englishman's  political  and  personal  rights.  Valu- 
able it  was  for  the  shielding  from  murderous  rage  of 
the  soon-to-be-impleaded  heretic ;  more  valuable  for  the 
education  and  impulse  of  the  reformer.  Wyclifte  is 
appointed,  and  goes  in  July,  1374,  as  the  king's  counsel 
and  as  royal  commissioner  to  the  historic  and  moment- 
ous conference  at  Bruges. 

That  ancient  and  historic  capital  of  West  Flanders — 
Bruges,  the  central  mart  of  the  great  Hanseatic  League, 
that  proud  and  powerful  republic  of  eighty  cities,  which, 
formed  about  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  and 
upon  the  model  of  the  Lombard  League  of  the  twelfth 
century,  did  so  much  to  define  the  general  principles  of 
mercantile  law  and  to  enlarge  the  scope  and  ennoble 
the  spirit  of  commerce,  and  wake  up  the  spirit  of  en- 
terprise and  a  love  of  liberty — Bruges,  the  home  of 
arts,  science  and  song,  the  metropolis  in  Wyclilfe's 
day  of  the  world's  commerce  with  the  great  merchant- 
halls  of  seventeen  kingdoms,  the  splendid  houses  of 
twenty  ambassadors,  a  magnificent  town  hall,  a  Senate- 
house    that  was    the    glory   of   Gothic    architecture,  a 


"the    morning    star   of    the    RliFORMATION."  33 

score  of  busy  shipyards — Bruges,  with  wealth,  refine- 
ment and  luxury  rivalling  Florentine,  Genoese  and 
Venetian — was  in  truth  a  worthy  scene  for  a  memora- 
ble conference.  Memorable  that  council  was :  there 
took  place  the  first  public  and  successful  challenge  of 
Rome's  pretensions  ;  there  was  heard  the  first  bold  pro- 
test, and  it  was  our  Anglo-Saxon  forefathers  who  made 
it !  Memorable  men  stood  there — stout  John  of  Gaunt, 
great  Duke  of  Lancaster,  the  Bishop  of  London,  Gilbert, 
Bishop  of  Bangor,  Guter,  the  great  lawyer,  four  chief 
counsellors,  and,  most  trusted  of  all,  John  Wycliffe. 
France  sent  among  others  two  royal  dukes,  Anjou  and 
Burgundy,  many  bishops  and  great  nobles.  Pope  Urban 
sent  a  large  band,  and  at  their  head  the  Archbishop  of 
Ravenna,  three  of  the  most  distinguished  bishops  of 
Italy,  and  the  subtlest  lawyer  of  the  curia.  These 
notables  and  their  attendants  made  a  right  royal  show 
in  the  gorgeous  city  of  merchant  princes. 

The  central  figure  is  Wycliffe  :  he  spoke  for  the  king ; 
he  quoted  Magna  Charta  and  English  law  quickly  and 
accurately  from  memory;  he  exposed  the  plots  of  France 
and  he  outwitted  the  subtle  Italians.  John  of  Gaunt 
took  the  bold  man  home  to  his  brave  heart,  and  ever 
after  was  to  him  as  the  Elector  to  Luther.  Lancaster 
and  Wycliffe,  at  least,  stayed  nearly  two  years  in  that 
free,  bold  city  of  merchant  princes.  Those  years  made 
him  what  henceforth  he  was — the  whole-souled  reformer. 
What  exactly  he  saw,  heard  and  felt  we  know  not.  But 
he  is  scarcely  back  in  England  till  we  hear  from  him  such 
startling,  Luther-like  phrases  as  the  following :  "  That 
antichrist  of  the  Romish  see,"  "the  proud  worldly  priest 
of  Rome,"  "  that  most  cursed  of  clippers  and  purse- 
kervers,"  "  though  our  realm  had  a  huge  hill  of  gold 


34  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

and  no  man  took  therefrom  but  this  proud  worldly 
priest's  collectors,  soon  the  hill  would  be  spent."  More 
clearly  than  ever  Wycliffe  is  pointing  out  the  corrup- 
tions of  the  Church,  and  now  distinctly  traces  them  to 
the  papacy.  He  is  now  convinced — and  with  him  con- 
viction and  confession  are  ever  twins — that  the  papacy 
had  no  oria:in  in  divine  ris-ht,  that  the  Church  needs  no 
visible  head,  and  that  the  Pope  is  Antichrist.  He  is 
pointing  sinners  now  to  the  Saviour  and  not  the  sacra- 
ments. The  eucharist  is  no  more  a  sacrifice.  And  the 
people  must  have  in  their  own  tongue  the  word,  and 
likewise  the  preached  gospel,  so  he  multiplies  his  "poor 
preachers,"  till  in  the  words  of  his  popish  foe,  Walsing- 
ham,  he  has  "  filled  the  land  with  these  pests  and  made 
all  London  swarm  with  his  Lollards." 

1378.]  V.  The  Father  of  the  English  Bible. 

Two  great  passions  now  absorb  the  noble  Englishman, 
the  preaching  of  the  gospel  and  the  translation  of  the 
sacred  Scriptures  into  the  folk's  speech.  To  the  first 
the  rector  of  Lutterworth,  whom  Chaucer  makes  sit  for 
his  famous  picture  of  the  Good  Parson,  will  give  him- 
self; to  the  second  the  great  student  of  the  Bible  and 
of  popular  talk  will  devote  his  chief  energies.  But 
Rome  will  not  for  a  time  grant  him  any  peace.  Papal 
brief  after  brief  is  launched  against  him.  King,  Church 
and  College  are  haughtily  and  at  their  peril  commanded 
to  strip  him  of  all  his  offices  and  benefices,  to  seize, 
imprison,  chain  and  try  the  heretic.  For  a  time  no 
man  dares  the  dangerous  service,  the  common  people 
hear  the  "good  parson"  so  gladly.  But  at  last  Court- 
nay,  the  Bonner  of  his  day,  summons  Wycliffe  peremp- 
torily to  his   bar  in   St.  Paul's  at  London.     The  great 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        35 

Englishman,  now  worn  with  work  and  wasted  with 
worry  and  disease,  appears ;  but  on  one  side  is  stout 
John  of  Gaunt  and  on  the  other  the  dashing  Harry 
Percy,  and  behind  the  multitude  who  already  look  on 
WycliflTe  as  almost  saint  and  martyr.  Such  unlooked- 
for  guards,  such  loud-voiced  assurances  of  London's 
love  for  Wycliffe,  had  not  been  expected  by  the  Romish 
persecutor,  who  first  pales  with  surprise,  and  then 
flushes  with  rage.  Courtnay  and  Lancaster  fall  at  once 
into  fiery  contest.  The  first  day  passes  in  the  squabble 
between  the  proud  prelate  and  the  prouder  peer.  Wyc- 
liffe waits  and  watches  with  quiet  humor.  When  the 
council  breaks  up  the  grand  old  man  walks  forth  be- 
tween Lancaster  and  Percy,  and  his  march  is  a  triumph. 
The  second  day  comes ;  but  the  people  are  storming 
without,  and  within  the  court  of  trial  the  messenger  of 
the  queen-dowager  commands  Courtnay  to  let  God's 
servant  go  in  peace. 

The  old  man  moves  out  like  a  conqueror  from  St. 
Paul's ;  the  streets  of  old  London  are  lined  with  a  huz- 
zahing  multitude;  the  shouts  make  the  craven  Court- 
nay cower ;  and  so  homeward  to  Lancaster's  mansion 
passes  Wycliffe  through  the  Londoners  standing  bare- 
headed before  that  hoary-headed  reformer,  whom  for 
his  wisdom  and  worth,  for  his  weight  of  character  and 
unwearying  work  for  his  country,  they  honor  as  a  king 
and  love  as  a  father. 

Now  sick,  frail  and  ready  to  die,  he  has  but  few  years 
more ;  they  are  wholly  given  to  the  preaching  of  a  re- 
formed doctrine,  the  publication  of  English  sermons  and 
of  Latin  tracts,  which  were  living  and  working  mightily 
when  speaker  and  writer  was  long  dead  and  at  rest. 
And  more  eagerly  than  all  else,  Wycliffe  is  busy  in  the 


36  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

translating  of  the  Latin  Vulgate  into  the  English  Bible. 
He  is  the  father  of  the  modern  translators.  May  his 
crown  ever  gleam  in  the  brightening  and  broadening 
light  of  advancing  Protestantism  ! 

This  version  in  the  vulgar  tongue,  though  somewhat 
Latinized  in  style,  is  literal,  plain  and  "  easily  under- 
standed  of  the  common  people."  It  was  the  founda- 
tion of  several  subsequent  versions,  and  Tyndale  in  his 
translation  used  it  largely.  Its  influence  was  immense ; 
its  effects  ineradicable  and  incalculable.  Copies  of  the 
whole  Scriptures  or  of  special  books  were  now  multiplied 
with  astonishing  rapidity.  Some  manuscripts  of  the  re- 
former's own  day  have  come  down  to  our  times,  though 
the  inquisitors  for  years  were  searching  them  out  and 
burning  them  industriously.  In  this  age  we  can  scarce 
realize  the  toil  and  time,  the  cost  and  care,  needful  to 
produce  one  copy  of  the  Bible.  Shall  not  that  loved 
book  over  which  knight  and  churl,  lady  and  handmaiden, 
merchant  and  lawyer,  then  bent  so  eagerly,  and  for 
which  they  gave  gold  and  carts  of  hay,  and  on  whose 
binding  they  placed  gems,  rise  to  condemn  us  ?  Then 
that  quaint  but  telling  tome  was  the  great  book  of  the 
season.  Students  in  college-halls,  lords  and  ladies  in 
their  castles,  soldiers  as  they  rested  neath  the  oaks  at 
noonday  halt,  farmers  among  their  servants  by  the  fire- 
side, the  sick  on  their  beds,  read  and  reread,  till  it  was 
hidden  in  their  hearts,  their  portion  of  the  new  book, 
for  few  could  buy  the  whole,  costing  some  fifty  or  sixty 
dollars  ;  and  they  drank  in  God's  truth,  like  thirsty  land 
the  rain,  as  Wyciiffe  gave  them  the  living  draught  in 
the  simple  speech  of  early  English. 

Many  a  glory  had  crowned  English  toil ;  never  aught 
like  that  English  Bible.     Many  a  gem  gleamed  in  the 


"  THE    MORNING    STAR    OF    THE    REFORMATION."  37 

king's  regalia  and  in  lordly  hall ;  here  w<aa  the  pearl  be- 
yond price  in  this   English  Bible.     Many  a  song  and 
ballad   was    sounding    over  the   land    and   stirring   the 
strong  souls  of  the  land ;  none  so  swift  and  stimulating 
as   that    English   Bible.     Many  a  mighty   sword    had 
flashed  in  the  red  light  of  battle  in  victor's  hand,  but 
here  was   the  sword  of  the   Spirit  for  the  hands  that 
should  be  more  than  conquerors  in  this  English  Bible. 
Many  a  strong  castle  guarded  young  lives  that  should 
yet  rewake  the  land,  but  the  infant  church  of  grace, 
the  just-born  English  Reformation,  lay  concealed  and 
sheltered   within   the   wooden   boards   and   the   brazen 
clasps  of  that  English  Bible.     Old  book  of  Wycliffe  ! 
how   many   weary   sinners   didst  thou   cheer  into   the 
peace  of  faith ;    how  many  captives  didst  thou  make 
hear  the  voice  of  Jesus  sounding  out  mid  the  silence 
of  the  deep,  dark  dungeons  ;  how  many  confessors  didst 
thou  make  smile  in  the  pillory  and  grow  strong  on  the 
rack  ;  how  many  martyrs  didst  thou  make  sing  in  the  heat 
of  the  Smithfield  fires  and  at  the  stakes  of  St.  Andrew's 
and  the  Grassmarket !      Great  heirloom  of  the  English- 
speaking  Church  of  the  Reformation !  precious  with  the 
thick- gathering  memories  and  potent  with  the  countless 
impulses  of  those  heroic  centuries  that  gave  us  freedom 
and  guarded  for  us  the  faith  of  God's  elect !    And  thou, 
Wycliffe — consecrated  scholar,  sire  of  our  English  Bible 
and  true  lover  of  thy  noble  folk  and  their  extended, 
all-conquering  speech — truly  thou  art  not  the  least  of 
the  Anointed  Ones  by  whom  the  yoke  has  been  broken 
and  we  have  been  freed !     Green  be  thy  memory  and 
fragrant  be  thy  fame  ! 

Surely  the  noble  man,  weary  with  work  and  worried 
by  strife,  will  now  sing  his  "  Nunc  Demittis  !"    Not  so  ; 


38  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

he  is  busy  preaching  sermons  that  fill  the  land  with  his 
Lollards  ;  he  is  preparing  and  pushing  out  into  the  white 
harvest  his  reapers,  "  the  gospellers,"  the  "  poor  preach- 
ing priests,"  who  thrill  "  the  hearts  of  gentle  and  sim- 
ple ;"  he  is,  like  Zwingli,  growing  himself  day  by  day 
in  a  fuller  knowledge  of  the  word,  ceasing  never  to 
study,  and  as  he  studies  seeing  more  and  more  clearly 
God's  grace,  Christ's  perfect  sacrifice  and  the  "  true 
place  of' the  good  parson."  His  words  grow  sharper 
and  his  doctrines  more  revolutionary.  Persecution  fol- 
lows persecution,  till  at  last  he  is,  by  papal  bulls  and 
anathemas,  banned  from  Oxford  and  forbidden  ever  to 
lecture  again  within  its  walls,  till  friend  after  friend  is, 
by  fears  and  threats,  by  lies  and  craft,  by  bribes  and 
ambitious  hopes,  driven  from  his  side,  till  there  is  no 
shelter  left  but  the  old  home ;  yet  old,  weak,  threat- 
ened, ever  watched  by  spies,  that  dauntless  soldier  of 
Christ  stands  firm  and  wars  on  still.  His  tracts,  dic- 
tated to  and  multiplied  by  his  "  poor  preachers,"  fly 
forth  thick  and  fast.  Confession,  absolution  and  tran- 
substantiation  are  all  vigorously  assailed ;  appeal  is  now 
to  reason,  conscience,  and,  as  supreme,  the  Holy  Word ; 
the  "great  schism"  and  the  rival  popes  "fighting  for 
the  keys"  and  hurling  "hot  curses"  at  each  other  are 
graphically  and  humorously  commented  on ;  and  the 
result  is  that  everywhere  there  is  an  upheaving  and 
questioning,  that  everywhere  the  "poor  gospellers"  are 
welcomed,  and  the  Lollards  are  thickly  multiplying, 
here  in  the  lord's  hall,  there  in  the  cottage  of  the 
homely  swain. 

Thus  moved  on  the  "good  parson"  till  it  came  the 
last  day  of  December,  1384 ;  then  John  Wyclifife  in 
his  hallowed  church  is  at  service,  and  as  it  nears  the 


"  THE    MORNING    STAR    OF    THE    REFORMATION."  39 

parting  prayer  the  message  is  gently  spoken,  "  Come 
up  hither."  The  old  Simeon  falls  beside  the  altar  steps  ; 
loving  hands  lift  and  carry  him  tenderly  to  his  rectory 
and  his  familiar  room,  and  there,  amid  his  books  and 
beside  the  oaken  table  on  which  lay  his  Bible,  in  peace 
the  good  man  dies.  A  simple  funeral  follows,  and  he 
is  laid  to  rest  in  the  chancel  of  his  church. 

"  He  with  a  noble  nature  and  rare  gifts 
Was  rich  endowed — courage,  discretion,  wit, 
An  equal  temper  and  an  ample  soul. 
Rock-bound  and  fortified  against  assaults 
Of  transitory  passion,  but  below 
Built  on  a  surging  subterranean  fire. 
That  stirred  and  lifted  him  to  high  attempts — 
So  prompt  and  capable,  and  yet  so  calm, 
He  nothing  lacked  in  sovereignty  but  right. 
Wherefore  with  honor  lay  him  in  the  grave." 


1415.]  VI.  The  Heretic  at  the  Bar. 

What,  a  dead  man  at  the  bar  for  trial !  Yes,  a  dead 
man !  Rome  is  ever  the  same.  You  ask  me,  do  I 
really  believe  that  Rome  is  still  as  she  was  ?  That  is 
her  own  boast  and  her  blot.  But  in  one  sense  it  is  fully 
true.  She  is  changeless  in  her  arrogant  claims  and  her 
atrocious  cruelties.  I  am  no  bigot.  I  can  appreciate 
her  grandeur,  and  can  admire  her  marvels  and  her  mis- 
sionaries, her  charitable  orders  and  her  compact  organ- 
ization ;  but  I  think  that  I  do  somewhat  thoroughly 
understand  Rome.  For  years  her  history  and  her  the- 
ology have  been  familiar ;  in  her  very  strongholds  I 
have  lived  and  watched  her ;  in  South  Germany,  Italy, 
Belgium,  France,  Spain  and  Ireland  with  close  attention 
I  have  studied  her  at  home  and  where  she  is  supreme ; 
in  England,  Scotland,  Prussia  and  in  this  republic  I  have 


40  JOHN    WYCLIFFE, 

marked  her  clever  tricks,  adroit  sup]>leness,  crafty  plans 
and  actions  ;  with  some  of  her  ablest  sons  and  apologists 
I  have  often  talked,  and  my  mind  is  made  up.  With 
Manning  and  Newman  and  Howard  I  agree — Rome 
claims  the  sole  right  to  persecute,  and  she  will  use  it 
when  she  dares  !  That  I  have  seen  her  do — in  Ireland 
and  Spain.  Even  the  dead  are  not  safe,  nor  is  the  grave 
a  shelter — Rome  tries  the  just-murdered  Zwingli  and 
rifles  Wycliffe's  tomb. 

Time  after  time  was  the  dead  man  tried.  Once  at 
Oxford  the  Rome-ruled  prelates,  who  had  then  full 
sway,  packed  a  jury,  who  examined  Wycliffe's  writings 
and  found  two  hundred  and  sixty-seven  conclusions, 
each  "guilty  of  fire." 

But  the  great  and  final  trial  was  in  1405,  at  Con- 
stance, immediately  after  Huss  and  Jerome  had  been 
burned.  Their  master  is  then  thirty-one  years  dead. 
But  the  examination  proceeds ;  forty-five  counts  are  in 
the  solemn  indictment,  and  each  charge  is  a  truth  of 
God's  word  and  an  article  to-day  of  the  Protestant  faith, 
of  the  apostolic  gospel  and  God-given  form  of  sound 
words  which  we  hold  and  love.  The  Constance  council 
find  John  Wycliffe  heretical  and  we  biblical  as  to  the 
rule  of  fiiith,  the  sole  headship  of  Christ,  the  falsehood 
of  the  papacy,  the  true  power  of  the  keys,  the  source 
of  salvation,  the  value  and  extent  of  the  atonement, 
the  nature,  ground  and  instruments  of  jnstification,  the 
doctrine  of  sanctification,  the  sacraments  and  the  right 
and  duty  of  private  judgment.  These  and  other  doctrines 
they  find  ;  farther,  the}^  prove  that  Wycliffe  had  taught 
Lord  Cobham  and  the  many  Lollards  whom  they  had 
burned,  Huss  and  his  companion  whom  they  had  just 
burned,  the  Hussites  and  "poor  brethren"  whom  they 


"the  morning  star  of  the  reformation."        41 

were  catching  and  burning  as  fast  as  possible  ;  and  shall 
this  "  father  of  heresy"  escape?  Nay,  verily  !  They 
resolve  that  the  bones  of  WyclifFe  shall  "be  disinterred," 
and  "  being  carefully  discerned  from  all  others,"  shall 
be  "  publicly  and  by  the  common  hangman  burnt,  and 
his  ashes  then  flung  on  running  water." 

This  paltry  spite  and  sacrilegious  sentence  was  not 
executed  for  thirteen  j^ears.  Then  a  foul-souled  traitor, 
to  whitewash  his  character  in  the  eyes  of  Rome,  is  found 
for  the  craven  deed.  Know  him  well,  and  remember 
him  forever,  the  caitiff!  That  dastard  is  Fleming,  Bishop 
of  Lincoln,  who  had  often  been  helped  by  Wycliffe,  had 
been  his  loud  professed  friend  and  his  follower.  The 
coward  ingrate  will  now  assure  his  place  in  the  troublous 
days.  Down  he  comes  to  Lutterworth,  and  hurries 
through  the  black,  frowning  faces  of  the  people  to  the 
church  of  the  revered  old  father  of  Lutterworth.  There 
with  his  motley  crew,  Rome's  ribald  retinue,  he  searches 
out  "  that  damned  and  obstinate  heretic."  With  rude 
hands  and  foul  jibes  and  coarse  laughter  they  burst  the 
tomb  and  tear  out  the  coffin.  Through  the  church  where 
that  good 

"  Clerk  did  Christ's  pure  gospel  sincerely  preach 
And  his  parishioners  devoutly  teach,'' 

across  the  meadows  where  the  "good  parson"  had 
watched  the  children  play  and  often  blessed  them,  over 
the  bridge  whence  the  thoughtful  student  had  looked 
down  on  the  river's  flow  and  seen  the  "  sight  of  life," — 
onward  to  a  wooden  pile ;  there  the  mouldering  clay  is 
rudely  tossed  forth,  deeply  cursed,  befouled  and  then 
Jjurned.  Old  men  wept,  and  women  cried,  "  0  Lord, 
how  long !"     Strong  men  held  their  hands  clenched  till 


42  JOHN    WVCLIPFE. 

their  pnlnis  were  red  witli  blood.  Little  children  whis- 
pered that  story  far  and  wide.  Then  the  ruftians  took 
the  ashes  and  flung  them  into  the  Swift. 

Thence  comes  that  strange  conceit  of  the  quaint  Ful- 
ler— "  Thus  this  brook  hath  conveyed  his  ashes  into 
Avon  ;  Avon  into  Severn ;  Severn  into  the  narrow  seas  ; 
they  into  the  broader  ocean.  And  thus  the  ashes  of 
Wycliffe  are  the  emblem  of  this  doctrine,  which  is  now 
dispersed  all  the  world  over." 

"  Heed  not  the  shaft  too  surely  cast, 
The  foul  and  hissing  bolt  of  scorn, 
For  with  thy  side  shall  dwell  at  last 
The  victory  of  endurance  born. 

"  Truth,  crushed  to  earth,  shall  rise  again  ; 
The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers  ! 
But  Error,  wounded,  writhes  in  pain, 
And  dies  among  his  worshippers. 

"  Another  hand  thy  sword  shall  wield. 
Another  hand  the  standard  wave. 
Till  from  the  trumpet's  mouth  is  pealed 
The  blast  of  triumph  o'er  thy  grave." 


JOHN  HUSS, 


"  Faithful  foimd 
Among  the  faithless,  faithful  only  he ; 
Among  innumerable  false,  unmoved. 
Unshaken,  unseduced,  unterrified. 
His  loyalty  he  kept,  his  love,  his  zeal, 
Nor  number,  nor  example,  with  him  wrought 
To  swerve  from  truth  or  change  his  constant  mind." 


AUTHOEITIES  CONSULTED. 


Gillett's  Life  and  Times  of  John  Huss  ;  Palacjky's  Works  ;  Hoefler's 
Magister  Johannes  Hus;  Oilman's  Reformers;  Bonnechose  ;  Koehler's 
and  Wessenberg's  works  ;  the  articles  in  the  cyclopaedias,  English  and 
German,  and  numerous  monographs  ;  also  the  lives  of  Wycliffe,  Savon- 
arola, Militz  ;  the  histories  of  Bohemia,  of  Ziska  and  the  Taborites,  and 
of  the  Constance  Council. 


JOHN  HUSS, 

THE  FLAME  OF  BOHEMIA  AND  THE  MARTYR  OF 

CONSTANCE. 


"And  others  were  tortured,  not  accepting  deliverance  ;  that  they 
MIGHT  obtain  A  BETTER  RESURRECTION." — Hebrews  xi.  35. 

Switzerland  is  in  itself,  in  its  very  physical  features, 
the  emblem  of  the  highest  life.  It  stretches  heaven- 
ward, it  ever  looks  heavenward,  it  ever  lifts  you  heav- 
enward. By  a  brilliant  Frenchman  it  has  been  said, 
"  This  land  of  the  free  and  the  brave  ever  lifts  her 
hands  to  God,  and  always  gazes  from  her  open  eyes  on 
the  home  of  the  Eternal."  Up  and  still  higher  up 
stretch  her  great  mountain  chains  ;  up  and  more  boldly 
up  heave  themselves  into  the  clearest  air  and  brightest 
sunshine  her  solemn  and  sublime  peaks  till  they  raise 
us  far  out  of  the  mists  of  the  earth  and  the  meanness 
of  to-day.  Calm  and  deep  and  pure,  her  lakes  watch 
the  skies,  studying  and  reflecting  the  softened  beauties 
of  the  dawn,  the  golden  glories  of  the  midday,  the 
mellow  charms  of  evening  and  the  countless  fires  of 
night. 

Just  where  the  mountains  begin  to  rise  upward  to 
the  marvellous  majesty  of  the  great  Oberland  shines 
one  of  these  widest  heaven-searching  eyes,  one  of  the 
strongest,  largest  and  brightest  eyes  in  all  this  land  of 


46  JOHN    HUSS, 

historic  fame  and  natural  attractions.  Wide  and  clear, 
with  an  ever-varying  light,  now  deep  and  still,  now 
fiery  and  gleaming  in  the  summer's  golden  glory,  now 
stern  and  wild  and  awful  in  the  sudden  angers  of  the 
quick-coming  and  quicker-going  thunder-storms,  this 
great  lake  of  Constance  delights  the  traveller,  stirs  the 
hearts  of  patriots,  thrills  by  its  moving  memories  the 
servants  of  God,  and  by  its  very  waters  teaches  us  to 
follow  those  who  through  faith  and  patience  are  now  in- 
heriting the  promise.  This  great  inland  sea,  called  by 
the  Germans  Der  Bodensee,  by  us  and  the  French  the 
Lake  of  Constance,  was  known  to  the  old  adventurous 
and  colonizing  Romans  as  the  Lacus  Brigantinus.  On 
its  waters  toiled  the  great  galleys  of  the  republic  and 
the  empire ;  and  yonder,  beside  Reichenau,  Tiberius 
fought  the  Vindelici.  Nearly  one  hundred  miles  in 
circumference,  this  lake  forms  the  converging  point  for 
several  states  :  Switzerland  with  her  Cantons  of  St. 
Gallen  and  Thurgau,  Austria  in  her  Vorarlberg,  Bava- 
ria and  Wurtemberg  and  Baden,  all  touch  upon  these 
shores.  Let  us  get  quickly  down  toward  the  shore,  and, 
embarking  on  the  little  steamer  which  is  now  puffing  at 
the  wooden  pier  of  Friedrichshafen,  we  shall  start  across 
the  pleasant  waters.  The  great  lake  is  in  the  morning 
light  one  vast  burnished  mirror ;  the  waters  are  a  clear 
green ;  the  sloping  shores  are  crowded  with  villas  and 
villages  and  towns.  Dark-green  steamboats,  white- 
sailed  boats  and  countless  fishing  canoes  stud  the 
waters.  The  green  hills  and  breezy  skies  are  charming 
to  the  eye.  Away  yonder,  in  the  far  distance,  we 
catch  the  snow-clad  sides  of  the  Austrian  Alps,  and 
here  the  ice-bound  peaks  of  the  Appenzell  and  the 
gleaming  brow  of  Sentis. 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  47 

"Girt  round  with  rugged  mountains 

The  fair  lake  Constance  lies  ; 
In  her  blue  heart  reflected 

Shine  back  the  starry  skies  ; 
And,  watching  each  white  cloudlet 

Float  silently  and  slow, 
You  think  a  piece  of  heaven 

Lies  on  our  earth  below." 

But  there,  on  a  little  island  near  yonder  town,  is  a 
curious  old  building  !  What  is  it  ?  Yes,  it  is  a  curious 
old  building,  and  round  about  it  gathers  a  story  of  rare 
romance,  and  connected  with  it  one  of  the  most  moving 
tragedies  which  the  annals  of  heroism  or  even  the  pages 
of  church  history  can  recall  or  repeat !  That  grim, 
quaint  building,  now  converted  to  the  purposes  of  trade, 
is  the  veritable  old  Dominican  monastery  where  John 
IIuss  was  imprisoned,  out  of  whose  dungeon  he  was 
brought  to  a  mock  trial  in  this  Swiss  town  to  which  we 
are  approaching,  and  the  town  is  Constance.  We  have 
found  our  subject  and  the  scene  of  his  martyrdom. 

Let  us  here  disembark  and  give  ourselves  a  quiet 
hour  to  study  the  scene  and  recall  the  men.  This  little 
quiet  and  quaint  Constance,  so  unpretending  and  so  un- 
promising, has  been  the  scene  of  not  a  few  striking 
events  in  the  movements  of  the  nations.  Here  in  this 
square,  once  called  Curia  Pacis,  Frederick  the  First  con- 
cluded his  fiimous  peace,  and  in  that  hall  Frederick  the 
Sixth  made  the  Burgrave  of  Nurnberg  Margrave  of 
Brandenburg — more  famous  act  still ;  but  for  us  one 
great  event  rises  commanding  above  them  all,  the  arrest, 
trial  and  martyrdom  of  the  great  Bohemian  reformer. 
Into  this  little  lake-town  have  been  crowded  the  nobil- 
ity, the  scholarship,  the  learning  and  eloquence  of  the 
middle   ages,  the   great   dignitaries  of  the  Church,  the 


48  JOHN    HUSS, 

papal  legates  and  the  Emperor  of  Germany  ;  and  here, 
one  for  us  more  interesting,  more  truly  noble  and  in- 
spiring than  all  others,  was  chained  and  cruelly  mur- 
dered— the  heroic  confessor  of  Christ.  Alike  for  the 
student  of  the  past  and  for  the  seer  of  the  future  this 
old  yet  young  Constance  is  ever  attractive.  Here  the 
old  and  the  new  worlds  very  manifestly  unite — the 
middle  ages  and  the  feverish,  forceful  modern  day  ;  here, 
inseparably  joined,  sadness  and  joy  mingle  together  in 
your  breast  as  you  walk  its  now  somewhat  drowsy 
streets.  Fear  and  hope  agitate  you  as  you  contemplate 
its  old  market-house,  or  as  you  pass  with  busy  memory 
before  yon  weathered  stone  face  of  the  martyr  near 
that  curious  old  gateway,  the  Schnetzthor.  Roman 
antiquity,  monuments  of  the  middle  ages,  memorials  of 
the  papal  struggle  for  continued  supremacy,  reminders 
of  John  Huss  and  recollections  of  his  bosom  friend, 
Jerome  of  Prague,  the  vivid  scenes  of  later  days  and 
the  somewhat  recent  reports  of  the  first  congress  of  the 
Old  Catholic  Church,  and  still  fresh,  sharp  gossip  about 
its  members  and  leaders,  compete,  as  you  move  hither 
and  thither,  for  your  regard  and  your  attention.  But 
the  interest  of  all  interest  for  us  centres  and  culminates 
in  the  two  great  councils  of  Constance  ;  the  council  that 
condemned  the  reformer  warring  against  Rome,  and 
the  council  that  condemned  Rome  that  would  not  be 
reformed.  Four  hundred  years  stretch  between  them. 
What  years  of  movement  to  the  world  !  Two  great 
trials  have  here  been  held — for  each  of  the  Constance 
councils  had  a  pope  at  its  bar  waiting  for  judgment ;  but 
the  first  council  ended  in  the  martyrdom  of  the  two 
witnesses  and  the  escape  of  the  papal  criminal,  while 
the  second  council   ended  in  the  condemnation  of  the 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  49 

Jesuit  Vatican,  in  the  rejection  of  the  two  great  doc- 
trines most  recently  formulated  by  the  papacy,  and  in 
the  establishment  of  a  new  witnessing  company  against 
Roman  arrogance,  falsehood  and  superstition,  the  Old 
Catholic  Church  of  Europe.  But  we  are  chiefly  con- 
cerned with  the  council  of  the  fifteenth  century  and 
with  its  deed  of  darkness — the  foul  murder  of  the 
faithful  Bohemian  reformer. 

The  death  of  Gregory  VII. — that  wonderful  Hilde- 
brand,  that  more  than  royal,  all  richly-endowed,  king- 
ruling  son  of  the  poor  carpenter  of  Soano — forms  the 
real  turning-point  in  the  flood  tide  of  the  papal  prosper- 
ity. Up  to  the  moment  when  Hildebrand's  more  than 
imperial  sway  ended,  all  things  had  strangely  wrought 
together  for  the  unchecked  and  unchallenged  supremacy 
of  the  papal  Church  over  all  consciences,  and  all  coun- 
tries and  their  constitutions ;  all  things  had  seemingly 
joined  in  league  to  secure,  and  that  forever,  the  firm  es- 
tablishment of  Rome's  absolute  and  unquestioned  juris- 
diction over  the  world.  But  with  the  death  of  this 
greatest  of  the  popes,  the  change  began, — at  first  un- 
perceived,  unsuspected,  soon,  however,  growing  mani- 
fest, at  last  becoming  a  revolt.  The  civilizing  influences 
that  have  changed  Europe,  the  rousing  of  the  civil  con- 
sciousness, the  new  birth  of  national  independence,  the 
awaking  of  the  individual  conscience,  the  stirring  of  the 
individual  intelligence,  the  growing  sense  of  the  indi- 
vidual right,  together  with  the  growth  of  the  middle 
classes,  the  resentment  of  down-trodden  peoples  and 
oppressed  kings,  and  a  thousand  strong  under-currents 
of  hostility  to  the  intolerance  and  brutality  of  Rome, 
all  like  diverse  streams  of  destruction  began  to  pour  with 
quicker,  stronger  currents  down  their  separate  channels, 


50  JOHN    HUSS, 

to  converge  and  mingle  their  death-dealing  waters  ;  and 
the  one  point  to  which  finally,  with  tumultuous  rush 
and  roar,  they  hurried,  was  the  sovereign  seat  of  the 
proud  Pope  of  Rome. 

At  the  opening  of  the  fifteenth  century  you  see  all 
these  forces  antagonistic  to  Rome,  destructive  of  the 
tyranny  of  the  Vatican,  in  most  violent  activity.  At 
the  same  moment  you  behold  a  stranger  and  more  start- 
ling sight,  for  you  see  the  strange  phenomenon  of  two 
heads  to  one  body,  each  head  infallible,  and  each 
supreme.  Two  infallible  and  supreme  heads  of  the  one 
perfect  body !  Then  were  the  days  of  the  "  great 
schism."  The  Church  that  boasts  to  be  ever  one  and 
indivisible  and  always  the  same  was  then  divided  into 
three  great  sections — one  with  a  French  head,  one  with 
an  Italian  head  and  one  with  no  head  at  all.  Gregory 
XII.,  at  Rome,  was  one  pope  and  head  of  the  Church, 
recognized  in  England,  Italy  and  Bohemia,  in  the  Ger- 
man empire,  by  the  rulers  of  Prussia,  of  Flanders  and 
Scandinavia.  That  tough  little  old  man,  with  the  sharp 
wit,  the  false  tongue  and  the  felon  soul — Pedro  de  Luna 
— ruled  as  Benedict  XII.  at  Avignon,  and  he  was  owned 
as  lord  and  head  of  the  Church  by  France,  Scotland, 
Spain,  Lorniine,  Sicily  and  Cyprus.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment the  great  university  at  Paris,  which  was  then  and 
for  many  a  long  year  an  independent  corporation  and 
almost  a  city  in  itself,  several  provinces,  some  free 
states  and  a  great  host  of  neutrals,  owned  neither 
Gregory  nor  Benedict  as  head,  but  looked  for  a  proper 
and  pure  pope  to  be  nominated  and  elected  by  a  general 
council.  The  times  were  really  scandalous.  Pope 
plotted  against  pope,  warred  against  pope,  conspired 
against  pope,  would,  if  possible,  assassinate  the  rival 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  51 

pope.  The  disgrace  could  not  be  longer  borne,  and 
therefore  a  general  council  was  held  at  Pisa ;  for,  dis- 
mayed and  scandalized  by  this  unseemly  struggle  be- 
tween infallible  popes,  who  were  cursing  and  anathema- 
tizing and  excommunicating  each  other,  the  more 
earnest  members  of  the  papal  communion  demanded 
that  an  end  should  be  put  to  this  strife  and  schism  and 
sin.  A  general  council  was  accordingly  held  to  heal  the 
schism  and  end  the  scandal  by  the  regular  election  of  a 
new  and  legitimate  pope,  to  whom  each  of  the  then 
contending  parties  should  of  right  and  immediately 
yield.  The  existing  popes  were  summoned  to  appear. 
Both  refused  to  attend.  They  would  not  recognize  the 
council.  Hence  the  council  tried  them.  They  were, 
in  their  contumacious  absence,  condemned  of  schism, 
heresy,  perjury  and  other  crimes,  after  full  examination 
and  by  solemn  sentence,  and  were  then  publicly  and 
formally  deposed.  The  records  of  this  council,  the 
speeches,  sentences  and  acts,  surely  are  very  significant 
facts  in  history,  and  surely  are  very  awkward  historic 
truths  for  the  maintainors  of  the  so-called  apostolic 
succession  to  deal  with.  This  and  the  succeeding 
councils  do  certainly  furnish  weapons  wonderfully  potent 
to  the  hand  of  a  skillful  Protestant  champion.  Luther 
and  Calvin,  Hamilton  and  Knox,  found  an  armory  in 
the  sworn  testimony  given  at  Pisa  and  Constance. 

The  council  of  reform,  having  taken  this  bold  and  lan- 
avoidable  step,  proceeded  with  great  formalities  to  the 
election  of  another  pope.  The  pope  called  and  chosen 
of  the  council  died  soon  afterward.  Another  election 
took  place,  and  by  its  vote  there  was  seated  on  the 
papal  throne  one  Balthasar  Cossa,  who,  as  the  notorious 
John   XXIII. ,   disputes   with  Alexander  VI.  the  first 


52  JOHN   HUSS, 

place  in  iniquity  and  villainy  aniona  the  darkest  and 
most  depraved  occupants  of  the  Vaticnn.  Now  is  seen 
a  wondrous  sight ;  there  are  three  popes,  and  Christen- 
dom is  torn  into  three  sections,  and  the  Church  is  dis- 
tracted between  three  infallible  heads  !  Three  infallible 
and  supreme  successors  to  Peter !  Three  vicegerents 
of  Christ !  Three  visible  representatives  of  the  one 
and  indivisible  God !  Where  was  now  "  the  true  and 
easily  discoverable  "  succession  to  the  apostles  ?  These 
were  very  serious  questions  then,  and  for  some  folks 
they  are  very  serious  questions  still. 

But  in  the  fifteenth  century  some  satisfactory  and 
immediate  answer  must  be  given  to  that  question  ;  hence 
to  settle  this  dispute,  to  eradicate  these  and  other 
abuses,  to  reunite  the  severed  and  battling  Church,  an- 
other council  is  called,  and  this  council  is  summoned  to 
Constance.  And  so  upon  the  16th  of  November,  1414, 
there  began  to  converge  towards  and  pour  into  this 
little  city  on  the  lake  ecclesiastics  from  all  lands  and  of 
all  ranks ;  doctors  of  theology  and  law  from  the  colleges 
and  universities  of  Germany  and  Italy,  of  England  and 
France ;  princes  of  independent  states,  sturdy  magis- 
trates from  the  free  towns,  the  ambassadors  of  the  great 
royal  and  imperial  courts  and  the  cardinals  of  the 
Church,  until,  according  to  Doellinger  (iv.  155),  some 
twenty  thousand  persons  gathered  into  and  around  Con- 
stance. The  first  great  public  act  of  this  council  of  the 
Church,  summoned  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  and  truth 
and  righteousness,  summoned  to  eradicate  abuses,  to 
purify  the  defiled  Church,  to  satisfy  the  Christian  con- 
science of  the  world,  and  to  show  that  the  Church  was 
the  great  apostle  of  sweetness  and  light  in  the  world ; 
yes,  the  very  first  act  of  that  great  assembly  was  a 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  53 

most  vWe  conspiracy  and  treacherous  arrest,  an  unjust 
imprisonment,  a  scandalous  trial,  cruel  mockeries  and  a 
murderous  execution. 

Enter  with  me  this  council  chamber,  which  is  the 
judgment  hall,  and  let  us  look  around  upon  the  sad  yet 
stirring  scene.  We  are  now  standing  in  the  old  Car- 
thusian convent,  built  about  1300,  beneath  whose 
mossed  and  lichened  walls  you  may  hear  the  lapping  of 
the  lake.  But  the  convent  is  now  changed  into  the 
great  council-hall  of  the  merchants.  The  chief  room  of 
assembly  was  upon  the  second  story ;  a  room  of  wide 
expanse,  with  low  ceiling  and  a  thick  plank  floor,  with 
great  heavy  oaken  beams  stretching  across  the  ceiling, 
and  massive  oaken  pillars  supporting  those  stout  beams 
that  are  black  with  age.  Into  that  room  of  the  council 
there  gathered  at  one  time  or  another  some  four  to  five 
hundred  men.  Few  scenes  in  history  equal  that  court. 
There  emperors  and  kings  and  princes,  dukes  and  nobles 
and  knights,  mingled  with  papal  legates,  patriarchs,  arch- 
bishops, bishops,  cardinals,  popes  and  minor  clergy ; 
there,  balancing  the  princes  and  ecclesiastics,  were  the 
representatives  of  the  great  universities  of  the  day, 
learned  men  who  were  the  light  of  their  age ;  there 
were  searchers  after  and  joyous  finders  of  precious 
classical  manuscripts  ;  there  were  the  greatest  historians 
of  the  times,  who  have  left  us  vivid  annals  of  their  own 
time,  and  secured  for  us  the  story  of  the  preceding- 
ages  ;  there  were  well-read  lawyers  of  the  Church,  who 
were  ofttimes  the  best  advisers  of  kings ;  there  were 
stout-hearted  burghers  and  busy  clerks  :  so  they  gath- 
ered together.  Beside  emperor  and  pope  and  papal 
legates,  you  may  count  some  twenty  princes,  one  hun- 
dred and   forty   knights,  twenty-three  cardinals,  seven 


64  JOHN    HU8S, 

patriarchs,  one  hundred  and  nine  bishops  and  archbishops 
and  about  four  thousand  i)riests.  MarveHous  scene ! 
with  elements  and  aims  that  might  have  made  it  forever 
sacred  and  sublime,  but  with  an  actual  history  that 
makes  it  literally  shameful  and  sin-laden.  Sweep  your 
eye  around,  and  there  in  the  centre  you  behold  the 
greatest  man  of  his  age ;  the  pure  preacher  of  Prague 
over  against  polluted  priests ;  the  heroic  and  honest 
subject  over  against  that  weak  and  false-hearted  em- 
peror;  the  forgiving  and  Christ-like  saint  over  against 
cruel-hearted  prosecutors.  Prisoner,  prosecutors  and 
bench,  all  are  before  you.  Wait  here  in  this  quiet  angle 
of  the  room  and  watch.  There  shall  pass  before  you 
here,  at  three  successive  meetings  of  this  council,  a 
scene  that  links  itself  with  the  most  marvellous  move- 
ments of  that  hour  and  of  our  own  time.  According 
to  a  custom  then  prevalent  in  colleges  and  great  confer- 
ences, this  council,  which  is  to  try  a  preacher  and  a  pope, 
has  been  divided  into  four  great  sections,  called  nations 
— the  Italian,  the  German,  the  French  and  the  English 
nations  ;  so  they  sit  in  order,  so  they  deliberate  and 
express  opinion,  so  they  vote,  so  they  file  in  and  out 
when  the  council  meetings  begin  and  close.  Sentence 
in  this  council  goes  by  the  majority  of  the  votes  given 
according  to  nations. 

The  Prisoner. 

But  who  is  he  who  stands  indicted  at  that  august  bar? 
who,  together  with  a  pope,  is  to  stand  and  answer  for 
his  dignity  and  life  before  such  a  jury  ?  Who  is  worthy 
of  a  trial  in  such  a  council?  Who  has  done  deeds  that 
demand  such  a  court?  Look  at  the  prisoner  patiently 
and  with  thouoht.      Yes,  look  at  liim  with  love  and  es- 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  b'O 

teem,  for  far  other  is  he  than  that  papal  poltroon  John, 
the  one  time  robber  and  now  disgraced  pope  who  has 
lately  fled  from  Constance  in  the  guise  of  a  groom,  and 
is  now  hiding  and  trembling  in  SchafFhansen  across  the 
lake.  Yes,  far  other  this  prisoner  at  the  bar  than  any 
one  of  those  who  seek  his  life.  Study  him  reverently ; 
few  like  him  in  that  day  or  any  other  hour  of  earth  to 
see.  He  is  one  of  the  great  souls  who  rise  up  head  and 
shoulders  above  the  common  masses  of  mankind ;  he  is 
a  right  royal  soul,  made  kingly  by  God  and  truth  ;  a 
veritable  master  of  men,  leading  men,  not  by  the  showy 
glitter  of  princely  rank,  nor  by  the  tyranny  of  custom 
or  the  despotism  of  superstition,  but  leading  multitudes 
by  that  sublimest  of  all  forces,  hallowed,  sanctified, 
scriptural  thought,  and  by  the  power  of  the  purest  of 
all  masteries,  a  holy,  loving  heart,  full  of  Christ  and 
purest  charity.  He  stands  alone.  There  are,  to  be  sure, 
true-hearted  Bohemian  knights  in  that  assembly,  who 
would  befriend  him  if  they  knew  how ;  but  he  is  really 
alone.  Such  men  must  needs  be  lonely.  Their  spirit- 
brothers  stand  too  far  apart  for  many  meetings,  too  far 
separated  for  much  spoken  sympathy.  Yet,  strange  to 
say,  these  men  are  generally  born  twins — Wycliffe  and 
Cobham,  Luther  and  Melancthon,  Calvin  and  Knox, 
Zwingli  and  CEcolampadius,  Ridley  and  Latimer,  and 
the  two  martyrs  of  Constance,  John  Huss  and  Jerome 
of  Prague.  Gaze  admiringly  on  him.  He  meets  you 
with  a  tall,  once  athletic  and  vigorous  frame,  now  well 
worn  through  toil,  and  sadly  emaciated,  sorely  diseased 
from  imprisonment.  He  meets  you  with  a  finely-cut, 
thoughtful,  musing,  somewhat  melancholy  face,  with 
deep,  gray-blue  eyes,  now  soft  with  kindliness,  now 
sharply  searching,  with  an  eagle-like  flash  and  strength, 


56  JOHN    HUSS. 

now  shaded  and  restful,  now  with  a  solemn  light  in 
them  as  if  they  saw,  like  John  of  Patmos,  through  an 
open  door  into  the  heaven  of  heavens  and  beheld  the 
throne  and  Lamb  of  God.  He  meets  you  with  a  large 
and  expressive  mouth  and  flexible  lips,  with  the  general 
air  of  purest  calm  and  perfect  self-mastery,  with  tokens 
of  vast  but  subdued  strength,  and  with  a  mother-like 
mildness  that  draws  your  heart  out  toward  him  :  so  you 
see  him  stand,  to  use  Luther's  words,  "  Like  a  lamb  of 
God  amidst  Satan's  wolves." 

Who  is  he  who  packs  this  hall  so  full  to-day  ?  Who 
is  he  who  concentrates  on  himself  the  eyes,  attention, 
hopes,  hatred,  of  this  vast  council  ?  Who  is  he  bold 
enough  to  wage  this  desperate  and  forlorn  fight  against 
such  odds  ?  He  is  John  Huss,  the  Bohemian  witness 
for  Christ's  evangel.  He  is  the  breaker-up  of  the  way 
for  the  Lord's  host  of  the  Reformation.  He  is  the  first 
clear,  unfaltering  voice  crying  in  the  European  wilder- 
ness, not  behold  the  Church,  but  behold  the  Lamb  of 
God.  He  is  the  twin  morning  star  of  the  Reformation. 
He  is  the  son  of  a  land  where  the  fallow  ground  of 
human  hearts  had  been  broken  up,  and  where  the  weed- 
covered  gardens  of  the  Church  had  been  prepared  for 
the  living  seed  of  God's  truth  by  bold,  adventurous, 
God-seeking,  Spirit-guided  men,  who  anticipated  the 
dawn  and  labored,  some  unconsciously,  some  hopelessly, 
to  prepare  for  the  Reformation  day.  He  is  the  succes- 
sor in  this  most  holy  way  of  Milicz,  the  Moravian  arch- 
deacon of  Prague,  who  in  1364  resigned  all  his  immense 
emoluments  for  the  sake  of  Christ  and  souls,  then  trav- 
t-rsed  the  country  in  all  directions  with  that  measure  of 
truth  which  he  himself  had  gained  ;  preached  as  another 
John   the    Baptist   repentance   to  priest  and   prince,  to 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  57 

soldier  and  serf;  pointed  all  men  with  gladness  and 
earnestness  to  Jesus  Christ  as  the  only  and  all-sufficient 
Saviour,  and  proclaimed  fearlessly  that  the  Church  had 
sunk  from  being  the  bride  of  Christ  into  the  bonds  of 
Antichrist,  and  was  now  the  slave  of  Satan.  This  lone, 
chained  prisoner  is  also  the  successor  of  noble  Conrad 
of  Waldhausen,  who,  fired  with  the  love  of  reform 
and  filled  with  the  truth  of  God,  had  convulsed  Bohe- 
mia with  his  marvellous  sermons  on  the  Church  and  on 
Christ.  This  suffering  victim  of  foul  dungeons  is  like- 
wise the  successor  of  that  great  scholar  of  philosophy, 
Matthias  of  Janow,  who  exposed  the  sin  of  the  clergy 
in  that  terrible  volume,  "  The  Abomination  of  Deso- 
lation seen  in  the  Church,"  who  stirred  Christian  con- 
sciences to  seek  for  the  true  laws  of  life  in  the  word  of 
God  rather  than  in  the  laws  of  the  Church  and  the 
tradition  of  the  elders,  and  who  had  laid  down  most 
important  rules  for  the  study  of  Scripture  in  his  books 
of  lectures  upon  the  Old  and  New  Testaments.  The 
successor  of  these  pioneer  spirits  is  this  emaciated,  dis- 
eased John  Huss,  the  forerunner  of  Martin  Luther. 

This  John  Huss,  or  Hus  as  some  spell  it,  saw  the 
light  on  the  6th  day  of  July,  1369,  or,  according  to 
some  accounts,  1373,  in  Husinecz,  an  inconsiderable 
town  of  Bohemia  on  the  banks  of  the  Planitz.  He  was 
the  son — like  Luther  his  great  scholar,  his  successor 
and  surpasser — of  honest,  well-to-do  peasant  folks, 
Czechs ;  kind,  simple,  noble-hearted  people  they  were, 
with  an  unpretending  but  a  comfortable  home,  who  loved 
learning  deeply,  sent  their  boy  early  to  school,  and  re- 
solved that  he  should  be  educated  to  the  very  fullest  of 
their  ability  and  of  his  age's  resources. 

Yes,  regard   him  affectionately,  ye   thoughtful   men 


58  JOHN    HUSS. 

and  lovers  of  learning,  this  lonely  prisoner  at  this  cruel 
bar.  He  deserves  your  attention.  From  the  day  the 
hard-working  boy  entered  the  school  of  Prachatitz,  till 
he  ended  his  career  on  earth,  that  Bohemian  peasant, 
who  so  loved  truth,  stood  foremost  in  his  class,  and 
very  early  became  distinguished  in  intellectual  combats. 
From  the  simple  school  of  Prachatitz  he  passed  in  due 
time  to  the  University  of  Prague,  where  he  quickly 
made  himself  known  as  a  youth  of  highest  promise,  and 
where,  in  lo93,  he  took,  after  severest  trial  and  with 
highest  distinction,  his  degree  at  that  famous  college, 
the  first  that  had  been  founded  in  Germany.  The  young 
graduate  carried  away  prizes  that  had  been  eagerly 
competed  for  by  ambitious  and  able  competitors,  when 
the  halls  of  that  great  university  were  most  densely 
crowded,  for  those  were  its  days  of  glory  when  some 
twenty-two  thousand  students  from  the  different  lands 
of  Europe  gathered  in  its  class-rooms  to  complete  their 
education.  Such  was  the  fame  of  the  young  prize-man 
that  he  was  speedily  and  unanimously  chosen  professor 
of  philosophy.  In  an  age  when  character  was  too  little 
thought  of  in  comparison  with  learning  or  social  rank, 
the  young  teacher  was  famous  for  his  chastity,  his  tem- 
perance, his  elevated  manliness,  his  deep  devotion,  hig 
singular  Christian  earnestness,  his  modesty  and  his 
kindliness.  Steadily  did  that  earnest  son  of  that  earnest 
mother,  who  stopped  just  as  she  neared  Prague  with  her 
boy,  and,  kneeling  down  on  the  earth,  dedicated  him 
anew  and  with  great  solemnity  to  the  Lord's  service, 
grow  in  favor  with  God  and  men.  Steadily,  in  all 
learning,  in  magnetic  attractiveness,  in  elevation  of  mind, 
in  thoughtful  earnestness,  in  the  persuasive  eloquence 
of  a  facile  tongue,  in  subtlety,  in  penetrating  acuteness  ; 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  59 

steadily,  in  all  the  qualities  that  make  up  a  noble  man 
and  a  marvellous  preacher  and  a  successful  professor, — 
did  John  Huss  rise,  until  he  became  "  the  star  of  his 
university,"  "'  the  model  of  industry  "  and  "  the  example 
of  morality  "  to  all  in  Prague. 

In  1401  he  is  chosen  dean  of  the  theological  faculty, 
and  in  1402  he  is  made  rector  of  the  university.  Soon 
after  this  he  is  chosen — very  important  event  in  his  life, 
very  important  in  the  history  of  the  Reformation,  be- 
cause indirectly  it  became  the  link  uniting  him  with  the 
great  Oxford  reformer — he  is  chosen  court-preacher  and 
spiritual  director  of  Queen  Sophia.  Immediately  after 
this  last  advancement  of  our  hero  he  is  called  to  the 
great  scene  of  his  pulpit  triumphs,  the  Bethlehem 
Church  in  Prague.  Prague — strangely-attractive,  half- 
Oriental  city,  lying  on  the  banks  of  the  Moldau,  sur- 
rounded by  beauty  and  grandeur,  watched  over  by  the 
old  royal  keep  of  Hradschin,  that  extensive  and  impos- 
ing palace  of  the  old  Bohemian  princes,  which  spreads 
its  four  hundred  and  forty  apartments  along  the  crest 
of  the  great  eminence,  and  behind  which  rise  up  the 
heights  of  Laurenzberg,  the  one-time  sacred  hill  where 
the  pagan  Bohemians  solemnized  their  mystic  rites  as 
fire-worshippers.  This  ancient  and  interesting  city  of 
Prague,  above  which  rise  the  black  precipices  of  the 
Wyssehrad,  where  Queen  Libussa,  founder  of  Prague, 
had  her  home,  and  whence  she  hurled  into  the  dark 
depths  beneath  her  discarded  lovers ;  this  historic  and 
battling  Prague,  behind  whose  terraces  are  seen  rising 
Ziska's  hill — that  dauntless  leader  of  the  Taborites  who 
smote  and  shamed  so  often  the  lying  Sigismund ;  this 
old  merchant  city  of  Bohemia  had  in  its  far-distant 
days  two  princely  merchants,  who  were  fired  with  the 


60  JOHN    HUSS, 

holiest  patriotism  and  love  of  truth,  and  these  two  men 
resolved  that  the  people  should  have  their  own  church ; 
so  the  God-fearing  Krentz  gave  the  ground,  and  generous 
John  de  Milheim  built  the  church,  where  the  common 
people  might  have  the  opportunity  of  hearing  the  gospel 
in  their  native  tongue ;  and  this  church  for  the  people, 
where  should  be  preached  the  marvellous  works  of  God 
in  the  ringing,  poetic  words  of  Bohemia,  is  the  historic 
and  hallowed  Bethlehem  Chapel.  This  is  the  scene  of 
Huss's  noblest  labors  and  grandest  victories.  Called  by 
the  open-handed  builder  of  the  church  to  its  pulpit,  John 
Huss  soon  filled  that  Bethlehem  Church  to  overflowing. 
Multitudes  gathered  there  whenever  he  preached  ;  and 
by  his  sermons,  clear,  burning,  direct,  profound  in  their 
thought,  yet  adapted  to  the  sorrows  and  wants  of  men 
and  full  of  biblical  truth,  he  swayed,  as  few  preachers 
have  ever  done,  the  populace,  and  influenced  professors 
and  princes,  till  all  Bohemia  talked  admiringly  of  him 
as  the  man  of  greatest  power  and  most  wonderful 
promise  in  his  day. 

Ye  lovers  of  our  old  Anglo-Saxon  race  and  our  Eng- 
lish Bible !  ye  sons  and  daughters  of  old  Britain,  with 
a  pure  and  noble  love  of  the  mother-land  moving  ever 
strongly  in  your  souls  !  regard  him  attentively ;  for  this 
lonely  prisoner,  weighted  and  wounded  by  his  chains,  is 
the  immediate  and  greatest  scholar  of  our  own  Wyc- 
lifTe.  While  the  young  Bohemian  philosopher  and 
preacher  was  stirring  the  university  by  his  thought,  and 
the  court  and  city  with  his  lectures  and  sermons,  his 
own  soul  was,  like  Luther's  at  a  later  day,  passing 
through  the  agonies  of  a  moral  and  spiritual  revolution. 
The  marriage  of  Richard  II.  of  England  with  the  Prin- 
cess Anne  of  Bohemia  had  drawn  the  realm  of  the  sea 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  61 

and  the  realm  of  the  mountain-fastness  very  close  to- 
gether. The  most  intimate  relations  were  established 
between  Britain  and  Bohemia ;  many  young  noblemen 
and  ardent  students  passed  from  Prague  to  Oxford,  and 
in  return  young  Englishmen  came  in  numbers  to  the 
city  where  their  own  honored  princess  had  been  born, 
and  to  the  university  where  the  king  ofttimes  presided 
at  the  learned  discussions.  With  the  English  nobles 
and  these  earnest  students  Wycliffe  came,  entering 
Prague  in  his  books.  There  was  one  man  there  whom 
nothing  that  was  fresh  in  thought  or  true  in  morals  and 
philosophy  could  possibly  escape ;  and  so  almost  imme- 
diatel}^  after  their  arrival  the  writings  of  John  of  Ox- 
ford, the  morning  star  of  the  Reformation,  came  into 
the  hands  of  John  of  the  university,  "  John  of  the  eagle 
mind,"  as  his  admirers  called  him.  There  are  few  things 
more  interesting  in  the  history  of  truth  than  the  un- 
broken and  close  succession  of  the  witnesses  to  the 
truth.  Paulicians  and  Beghards  lead  to  Albigenses  and 
Vaudois,  these  lead  to  the  Brothers  of  Bruges,  they  in 
turn  to  Wycliffe,  Wycliffe  to  Huss  and  Jerome  of 
Prague,  the  Hussites  and  Mystics  lead  to  Martin  Luther 
and  Calvin,  and  Luther  leads  to  Patrick  Hamilton  and 
George  Wishart  and  John  Knox. 

The  professor  of  philosophy  and  the  preacher  of  the 
Bethlehem  Chapel  is  at  first  scandalized  and  horrified 
at  the  teaching  of  the  English  reformer ;  then,  honest 
student,  he  begins  to  doubt,  then  to  debate  the  very 
questions  that  Wycliffe  debated  ere  he  reached  his 
Protestant  conclusions ;  then  he  hesitates  as  to  duty, 
but  only  for  a  moment,  for  he  was  too  simple-minded,  too 
earnest,  too  noble,  to  halt  long  between  two  opinions. 
He  is  at  last  fullv  convinced ;  John  Huss  is  converted 


62  JOHN    HUSS, 

to  the  truths  of  the  Reformation,  and  the  great  Bohe- 
mian thinker  sits  humbly  and  with  teachable  spirit  at 
the  feet  of  the  English  Gamaliel,  the  fiiithful  pastor  of 
Lutterworth,  to  whom  Huss  ever  reverently  refers 
under  the  striking  title,  "  the  master  of  deep  thoughts." 
Lovers  of  free  thought  and  of  a  pure  faith,  view  that 
bitterly-assailed  and  foully-belied  prisoner  well. 

In  1409,  on  the  20th  of  December,  Pope  Alexander 
v.,  under  the  influence  of  Sbynko,  the  archbishop  of 
Prague,  once  friend  of  Huss  but  now  most  bitter  foe, 
published  a  bull  against  Wycliffe's  writings,  forbidding, 
under  severest  penalties,  their  being  taught,  command- 
ing them  to  be  burned,  and  prohibiting  all  persons  from 
proclaiming  publicly  or  privately  doctrines  that  in  any 
way  savored  of  the  views  of  the  English  reformer. 
The  archbishop  proclaimed  the  papal  bull,  forbade  the 
popular  preacher  to  occupy  any  longer  the  pulpit  of  the 
Bethlehem  Chapel ;  and,  finding  that  the  bold  scholar 
and  reformer  refused  obedience,  he  excommunicated 
with  virulent  abuse  the  favorite  of  the  students  and  the 
populace.  These  papal  terrors  did  not  at  all  affright 
the  rector  of  the  university.  Huss  immediately  stepped 
into  the  breach,  boldly  denounced  the  bull,  appealed 
from  the  pope  ill  informed  to  the  pope  better  informed, 
and  laid  down  with  clearness  and  force  in  a  tract  this 
grand  principle,  "  The  books  of  heretics  should  be  read 
and  disproved,  not  burned.  .  .  .  When  Peter  and  John 
were  forbidden  to  preach  they  appealed  from  the  church 
to  the  consciences  of  men  and  to  God  as  supreme,  say- 
ing, '  We  ought  to  obey  God  rather  than  man.' "  Sbyn- 
ko sent  out  his  emissaries  to  collect  the  works  of 
Wycliffe,  and  made  a  huge  bonfire  in  the  public  square 
of  Prague  of  two  hundred  exquisitely-bound  and  beau- 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  63 

tifully-printed  copies  of  Wycliffe's  works.  This  bull 
of  the  pope,  this  rash  haste  and  cruel  violence  of  the 
archbishop,  so  roused  the  ire  of  the  students  and  the 
fury  of  the  populace  that  in  vaster  crowds  than  ever 
they  rushed  to  the  Bethlehem  Chapel,  where  the  ex- 
communicated but  undaunted  Huss  thundered  more 
loudly  than  before  against  the  foul  tyranny  and  frauds 
of  the  papacy.  His  bold  words  thrilled  his  audiences  : 
"  Fire  does  not  consume  truth  ;  it  is  always  the  mark 
of  a  little  mind  to  vent  anger  on  inanimate  and  uninju- 
rious  things."  From  the  church  the  dispute  was  carried 
to  the  university,  where  professors  and  students  were 
engaged  in  fierce  debate.  The  court  was  divided,  the 
city  was  convulsed.  For  five  long  days  Huss,  Simon 
and  Jacobel,  with  the  ablest  teachers  of  the  school,  ex- 
pounded to  the  delight  of  the  great  masses  of  the 
students,  and  defended  to  the  joy  of  the  earnest 
citizens,  the  boldest  statements  of  Wycliffe.  The  ex- 
citement grew  daily  more  and  more  intense.  Amid  the 
swelling  storm  Huss  remained  quite  calm,  but  waxed 
bolder  in  his  statements  every  day.  "  They  who  for 
excommunication  by  man  refuse  to  preach  are  thereby 
excommunicate  of  God,  and  in  the  judgment  will  be 
found  among  the  foes  of  Christ.  Any  teacher  or  any 
priest  or  any  soul  that  has  found  the  truth  may  proclaim 
the  word  of  God  without  being  dependent  on  bishop  or 
pope."  "  Mark  what  is  written  in  Scripture  of  the 
Pharisee,  '  All  that  they  bid  you  do,  that  observe  and 
do,  but  do  ye  not  after  their  works.'  The  same  lan- 
guage may  apply  to  our  ecclesiastics  now",  whose  con- 
duct exhibits  little  conformity  to  the  law  of  God.  What 
these  men  find  in  the  gospel  of  Christ  to  their  taste 
they  very  willingly  receive,  but  when  they  meet  any- 


64  JOHN    HUSS, 

thing  requiring  labor  and  self-denial  they  pass  it  by. 
When  Jesus  said  to  Peter,  '  I  will  give  to  thee  the  keys 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,'  that  they  grasp  at  for 
aggrandizement  of  their  own  authority ;  but  that  other 
sentence  addressed  by  Christ  to  Peter,  '  Follow  me,  and 
feed  my  sheep,'  they  eschew  like  poison ;  so  too  what 
Christ  said  to  the  disciples,  '  Whatsoever  ye  shall  bind 
on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven,'  they  accept 
gladly  and  comfort  themselves  with  it ;  but  when  He 
says,  '  Possess  neither  gold  nor  silver,'  they  decline  it 
as  offensive." 

Lovers  of  Protestant  truth,  rejoicing  in  the  glorious 
Reformation,  and  honoring  the  great  Monk  of  Erfurt, 
behold  this  lonely  prisoner  with  pure  admiration  and 
true  affection !  This  is  the  clear-thoughted,  plain- 
spoken  man  who  says,  regarding  the  foundation  of  faith, 
"  All  Christians  ought  to  believe  all  and  only  what  God 
has  commanded  to  be  believed.  .  .  .  Every  man  ought 
to  be  ready  when  the  truth  is  shown  him  out  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  to  receive  it  gladly,  and  should  he  hold 
anything  contrary  to  the  Scriptures,  to  forsake  it  imme- 
diately. When  he  comes  to  know  God's  truth  let  him 
hold  it  firmly,  even  to  death." 

He  is  really  the  forerunner  of  Luther,  who  again  and 
again  expresses  his  obligation  to  this  diligent  and  learned 
annotator  of  the  Psalms,  this  unfortunate  Bohemian 
prisoner.  When  Luther  found,  in  one  of  the  libraries 
at  Erfurt,  a  volume  of  Huss's  sermons,  he  grasped  it 
with  most  eager  yet  trembling  curiosity.  He  says,  "  I 
was  seized  with  a  longing  to  know  what  doctrines  this 
great  heretic  had  taught.  The  reading  filled  rae  with  in- 
credible surprise.  I  could  not  comprehend  why  they 
should  have  burned  a  man  who  explained  the  Scriptures 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  65 

with  SO  much  discernment  and  wisdom."  Hearken  to 
the  bill  of  indictment  in  which  at  the  council  the  heres}^ 
of  this  man  is  set  forth.  John  Huss  taught :  (1)  The 
predestinated,  whatever  fault  they  may  fall  into,  do  not 
cease  to  be  members  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  and  they 
alone  do  form  the  true  Church  of  God  ;  (2)  A  repro- 
bate pope  is  not  the  head  of  the  holy  Church  of  God ; 
(3)  There  is  not  a  particle  of  evidence  to  make  it 
appear  that  there  should  be  but  one  head  in  spiritual 
matters  ruling  over  the  Church  ;  (4)  Christ  would  rule 
His  Church  better  by  means  of  His  true  disciples  scat- 
tered throughout  the  world,  than  by  such  monstrous 
heads  as  we  now  see ;  (5)  Peter  was  not  universal 
pastor  of  the  sheep  of  Christ,  much  less  is  the  pope  of 
Rome  ;  (6)  The  apostles  and  faithful  priests  of  the  Lord 
have  ably  ruled  the  Church  in  all  things  necessary  to 
salvation  before  the  office  of  the  pope  was  invented  or 
introduced. 

Truly  these  are  bold  enough  utterances ;  truly  these 
are  the  anticipations  of  the  great  battle  at  Wittemberg 
and  at  Geneva.  And  in  supporting  these  clear  Protest- 
ant protestations  Huss  appealed  to  the  word  of  God  as 
the  sole  and  supreme  authority  on  matters  of  faith,  and 
boldly  affirmed  in  the  presence  of  that  council,  as  well 
as  in  his  sermons,  that  the  meaning  of  the  divine  word 
was  to  be  decided,  not  according  to  traditions  of  the 
Church,  but  after  prayerful  study  by  each  seeker  of  the 
truth  for  himself  before  conscience  and  under  the  eye 
of  God.  From  the  Church  he  appealed  to  the  law  and 
testimony,  and  from  the  hierarchy  to  the  head,  even 
Jesus  Christ  Himself.  "  Almighty  God,  one  essence  in 
three  persons,  is  the  first  and  final  refuge  of  all  who  are 
oppressed.     He  is  the  Lord  who  keepeth  truth  forever. 


66  JOHN    HUSS, 

He  will  do  justice  to  those  who  suffer  wrong,  near  to 
those  who  call  upon  Him  in  truth,  and  will  condemn  to 
destruction  incorrigible  transgressors.  Our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ — true  God  and  true  man,  surrounded  by  high 
priests,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  His  judges  and  their 
partisans,  and  willing  to  ransom  by  a  bloody  and 
shameful  death  from  eternal  damnation  His  children 
chosen  from  the  foundation  of  the  world — has  given 
His  disciples  a  noble  example  for  committing  their 
cause  to  the  judgment  of  that  God  who  is  all  power 
and  knowledge,  and  who  doeth  whatsoever  He  will. 
...  I  commend  all  this  matter  to  the  Judge  in  heaven, 
who  will  judge  the  cause  of  both  parties  with  impartial 
justice.  ...  1  appeal  to  God  who  sees  me  oppressed 
by  this  unjust  sentence,  and  by  the  pretended  excom- 
munication of  high  priests,  scribes,  Pharisees  and  judges 
occupying  Moses's  seat.  ...  I  am  absolved  before  God 
from  the  guilt  of  contumacy,  and  discharged  from  this 
pretended  and  frivolous  excommunication.  I,  John 
Huss,  present  this  appeal  to  Jesus  Christ  my  Master, 
who  knows,  protects  and  judges  the  righteous  cause  of 
every  individual  whatsoever,  and  who  can  neither  be 
intimidated  by  fear  nor  corrupted  by  gifts  nor  deceived 
by  false  testimony." 

And  this  man,  who  with  Stitney  fixed  and  fitted — as 
Chaucer  did  with  our  own  English — the  forceable  and 
flexible  Bohemian  tongue,  so  that  singer  and  sage  could 
find  in  the  large  vocabulary,  rich  forms  and  striking 
idioms  of  its  noble  language  all  that  could  move  the 
mob  or  convince  the  thinker  or  express  the  imagination 
of  the  poet ;  this  patient  student,  who  in  his  enforced 
retirement  at  Tabor,  Prachatitz  and  Koze-Hradit  cor- 
rected,   purified    and    perfected    the    Bohemian    Bible, 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  67 

originally  translated  about  1243 ;  this  Christian  poet, 
who  wrote  moving  hyuins  that  still  float  down  the  hills 
and  through  the  valleys  of  his  native  land,  or,  translated 
into  many  a  tongue,  tlirill  the  hearts  of  the  devoted 
Moravian  brethren  and  their  converts ;  this  distinguished 
scholar,  who  by  his  genius,  eloquence  and  ever-growing 
erudition  filled  the  greatest  students  of  Paris  and  Bo- 
logna, of  Rome  and  Oxford,  with  amazement ;  this  earn- 
est, laborious  preacher,  who  had  toiled  by  day  and 
night  to  spread  Christ's  truth  throughout  Germany  and 
across  Christendom ;  this  stainless  moralist,  who  had 
kept  a  conscience  void  of  offence,  and  himself  unspotted 
in  that  all-polluted  age, — now  stands  to  be  judged  by  a 
crowd  of  foes,  made  by  their  own  gross  indecencies  at 
this  trial,  and  by  their  wanton  defiance  of  justice,  for- 
ever infamous  in  history. 

The  Prosecutors. 

Who  assail  him  ?  Three  distinct  parties.  Men  of 
intense  national  feeling,  embittered  against  the  Bohe- 
mian patriot ;  men  of  hostile  philosophies,  enraged 
against  the  able  opponent  of  their  views ;  but  worse 
than  all  his  personal  foes,  men  of  burning  bigotry  and 
strongest  prejudice,  infuriated  against  the  man  who  by 
his  teaching  has  exposed  their  ignorance,  and  by  his 
chastity  has  condemned  them  before  the  public,  who 
knew  and  loathed  their  impurity. 

The  Nationalists  of  Germany  prosecute  the  Bohemian. 
When  John  Huss  became  a  power  in  the  University  of 
Prague,  he  found  that  the  Germans  who  crowded  its 
class-rooms  were  gradually  acquiring  an  undue  influence 
within  its  halls,  which  they  harshly  wielded  to  the 
social  disparagement  and  pecuniary  loss  of  the  native 


68  JOHN    HUSS, 

Bohemian  students.  The  patriotic  rector,  by  his  influ- 
ence over  the  king,  by  his  own  tact,  perseverance  and 
eloquence,  so  roused  the  authorities  and  students  of 
Bohemia  that  they  vigorously  and  unitedly  reasserted 
their  ancient  place  in  the  university,  petitioned  the 
king,  who  took  a  constant  and  lively  interest  in  all 
collegiate  matters,  to  give  them  their  rights,  and,  suc- 
ceeding with  their  monarch,  deprived  the  German  in- 
truders of  their  arrogated  place  and  excessive  privileges. 
Enraged  by  this  defeat,  and  smarting  under  their  humil- 
iation, the  Germans  withdrew  by  thousands  from  the 
Bohemian  city,  founded  the  now  celebrated  University 
of  Leipsic,  denounced  the  act  of  Huss,  and  from  the 
day  of  their  secession  ceased  not  jealously  to  watch  and 
bitterly  to  persecute  him  whom  they  justly  held  to  be 
the  author  of  their  disgrace.  Very  many  of  those  who 
as  students  withdrew  in  that  great  exodus  were  now,  as 
ecclesiastics  or  lawyers  or  professors,  members  of  this 
very  council,  at  whose  cruel  and  clamorous  bar  John 
Huss  is  standing  to  plead  vainly  for  his  life.  Terribly 
exasperated,  they  thirst  now  for  revenge.  At  that  day, 
moreover,  the  Germans  were  most  bigoted  and  devoted 
followers  of  the  Church ;  and  hence  you  have  in  these 
German  members  of  the  council  that  union  of  national 
antipathy  and  denominational  bigotry  which  in  Ireland, 
France  and  Holland  has  ever  wrought  such  deadly  dis- 
aster. To  this  very  hour  there  is  rankling  deep  in  the 
heart  of  the  Bohemians  a  fierce  detestation  of  the  real 
Germans,  and  this  bitter  feeling,  started  with  the  cruel 
treatment  of  John  Huss  on  the  part  of  the  German  mem- 
bers of  this  conference,  grew  and  rose  to  the  height  of  a 
passion  in  the  bitter  Bohemian  wars.  This  unhappy 
feeling  has  displayed  itself  often  in  grimmest  forms,  and 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  69 

may  ultimately  work  most  destructive  results  inside  the 
loosely-bound  Austrian  empire. 

Violent  philosophers  were  among  his  foes.  Many  of 
the  most  influential  opponents  of  Huss  were  those  who 
represented  in  this  council  of  Constance  the  University 
of  Paris,  the  churches  and  courts  of  France  and  of 
England.  Of  these  great  actors  in  this  tragedy  John 
Gerson — the  learned  and  remarkable  chancellor  of  Paris 
University — was  the  acknowledged  leader.  The  ini- 
petuous  and  justly-distinguished  cardinal  of  Cambray, 
Peter  D'Ailley,  his  former  instructor,  sympathized  with 
him  on  most  of  the  controverted  questions  of  the  day, 
whether  philosophical  or  confessional.  Joining  heartily 
with  them  were  Clemengis,  master  of  withering  invec- 
tive, the  young  and  subtle  cardinal  of  Ferrara  and  the 
English  doctors.  These  men  hunted  Huss  down.  From 
the  remark  which  they  afterward  made,  viz.,  "  that  had 
Huss  been  properly  defended  he  would  have  escaped," 
it  is  to  be  fairly  presumed  that  they  agreed  with  Huss 
in  the  main.  So  their  writings  prove.  Yet  they  made 
all  their  vast  social  influence  and  intellectual  power  so 
tell  against  Huss  as  very  largely  to  settle  his  fate. 
That  deed  was  born  of  hate — the  hate  of  the  philos- 
opher rather  than  of  the  theologian.  "  To  the  observer 
of  these  sad  events,  not  initiated  into  a  full  knowledge 
of  the  secret  currents  of  influence  blending  wnth  or 
counter-working  one  another  beneath  the  surface,  such 
violent  hostility  as  these  learned  and  in  many  respects 
excellent  men  manifested  toward  Huss  w^ould  have  been 
quite  inexplicable,"  had  we  not  full  evidence  of  the 
extremely  bitter  feeling  existing  between  the  two  phil- 
osophical parties  represented  on  the  one  side  by  them- 
selves and  on  the  other  by  Huss.     Huss  belonged  to 


70  JOFIX    HUSS, 

the  school  of  the  Realists,  while  Gerson  and  the  cardinal 
wei'e  the  avowed  and  leading  champions  of  the  Nomi- 
nalists. To  us,  quietly  and  critically  studying  the 
furious  strifes  of  past  days  waged  between  these  two 
opposing  parties  in  the  school  of  metaphysics,  it  seems 
wellnigh  impossible  to  believe  that  scholarly  and  also 
Christian  men  could  hate  one  another  with  such  fierce 
virulence  simply  because  a  favorite  theory  was  opposed. 
As  hostile  hosts  these  two  great  parties  in  the  specula- 
tive world  confronted  each  other — the  Realists  and  the 
Nominalists.  The  Realists  taught  that  genus  and 
species  are  real  things ;  that  such  a  notion  as  the  gen- 
eral notion  "tree"  had  a  reality  somewhere  existent 
which  did  positively  correspond  to  it ;  that  the  general 
idea  "whiteness"  had  a  reality  corresponding  to  it 
somewhere ;  and  that  just  as  in  the  case  of  singular 
names  there  is  some  real  individual  corresponding  to 
each,  so  in  all  general  teims  likewise  there  is  something 
corresponding  to  each,  which  is  the  object  of  our  thoughts 
when  we  employ  the  general  term.  They  said  shib- 
boleth. The  Nominalists  on  the  other  hand  taught  that 
genus  and  species  are  in  themselves  only  names ;  that 
they  exist  only  in  the  individual  members  of  the  par- 
ticular class,  and  are  abstractions  of  our  own  mind. 
They  said  sibboleth.  "  Is  whiteness  a  reality,  or  is  it 
an  abstraction  made  by  the  mind  ?"  That  question 
divided  the  speculators  of  the  middle  ages  into  two 
actually  hostile  armies ;  and,  as  with  Jephthah's  men 
and  the  Ephraimites  at  the  ford,  a  word  wrought  death. 
We  smile  and  we  shudder  at  the  evil  and  sin  of  it  all ; 
but  let  us  beware  that  for  mere  words  we  do  not  destroy 
friendship  and  work  evil  irreparable.  Huss  was  a 
Realist.    Up  rose  that  fierce  Nominalist,  the  cardinal  of 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  71 

Cainbray,  Peter  D'Ailley,  who,  except  Gerson,  was  by 
far  the  ablest  man  in  the  crowd  of  persecutors.  The 
cardinal  was  a  passionate,  positive,  proud  man,  filled 
with  all  the  prejudices  of  his  day,  who  did  not  for  one 
moment  scruple  to  make,  in  his  religious  discussions, 
use  of  all  the  tricks  and  niceties  of  the  school,  all  the 
refinements  of  speculation  and  a  pitiless  logic.  He 
hated  Huss  desperately,  and  he  pressed  him  very  hard. 
Never  in  all  his  life  did  D'Ailley  show  more  eagerness 
in  any  transaction,  though  ofttimes  he  had  displayed  so 
successfully  his  powers  that  he  had  gained  the  title  of 
the  '•  Eagle  of  France,"  to  which  honorable  name  had 
been  added — because  of  his  rigor  against  heretics  and 
his  inflexible  determination  to  let  none  of  them  escape 
— the  other  designation  of  the  "  Hammer  of  Heretics." 
"  John  Huss,"  said  this  cardinal-hammer,  "  do  you 
admit  the  universals  a  fcirte  rei  as  belonging  to  the 
thing  itself,  of  which  they  are  the  universals  ?"  "  I 
admit  them,"  said  John  Huss  firmly.  "  Then  I  shall 
prove  that  you  are  a  heretic  and  cannot  hold  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Church  concerning  the  presence  of  our 
Lord  in  the  sacrament  of  the  supper."  And  prove  it 
the  cardinal  did  by  his  own  process  and  to  the  entire 
satisfaction  of  the  council,  who  cared  but  little  for  proper 
evidence  against  Huss,  but  clamored  loudly  for  the 
prompt  execution  of  the  heretic. 

These  two  parties,  the  Nominalists  and  the  National- 
ists, combined  with  the  third  section  of  his  foes,  the 
priests  and  the  prelates,  who  hated  him  for  his  life  and 
his  teaching.  As  Pilate  and  Herod  became  friends  over 
the  doomed  Christ,  and  aided  the  bigoted  Sanhedrim  to 
crucify  the  Lord  of  glory,  so  the  German  students  and 
the   French    philosophers,  though  hating    one  another 


72  JOHN    HUSS, 

with  a  ))urnino'  hatred,  united  together  aaainst  Hnss, 
and  joined  with  his  priestly  foes  to  hound  him  on  to 
death.  Chief  among  these  personal  foes  were  three 
traitors,  once  friends  of  Huss  but  now  his  persecutors — 
Stephen  Paletz  and  Andreas  Broda,  and  one  Michael 
de  Causis.  This  Michael  de  Causis  was  one  of  the 
most  infamous  characters  of  his  day.  He  was  a  villain 
from  the  start ;  he  was  schooled  in  all  the  trickeries  of 
the  times ;  he  was  an  adept  in  all  the  arts  of  fraud, 
ready  to  do  the  meanest  things  as  the  pliant  tool  of 
other  men's  malice,  if  the  bribe  were  heavy  and  the 
assassin's  blow  would  satisfy  his  own  cowardly  revenge. 
He  was  ever  in  the  midst  of  the  foulest  intrigues ;  the 
basest  passions  ruled  him  ;  he  fawned  upon  the  pope  ; 
he  bribed  that  basest  of  men  to  secure  his  own  aims  ; 
and  the  destruction  of  Huss  was  necessary  to  his  suc- 
cess. This  foul  fiend  said,  "  By  the  grace  of  God  we 
shall  soon  burn  this  heretic,  whose  condemnation  has 
caused  me  much  mone}^"  Yet  of  this  hardened  wretch 
it  was  that  noble  Huss  said,  "  I  leave  him  to  God,  and 
pray  for  this  man  most  affectionately." 

Like  Wyclifle  and  Matthias  of  Janow,  like  Savon- 
arola and  Patrick  Hamilton,  like  Luther  and  Knox,  the 
pure  soul  of  John  Huss  had  been  stirred  by  the  rapacity, 
the  obscenity,  the  debauchery,  the  indescribable  vile- 
ness  of  the  priesthood,  and  he  had  spoken  out  plainly 
on  the  subject.  When  he  looked  upon  a  bishop  who 
actually  boasted  at  a  public  civic  dinner  of  the  number 
of  illegitimate  children  that  had  been  born  to  him  in 
twelve  months ;  when  he  thought  of  the  dark  deeds 
that  were  enacted  in  monasteries  and  convents  ;  when 
he  beheld  the  pomp  and  prodigalit}^  of  the  regular 
clergy ;  when  he  witnessed  the   thefts  of  the  seculars 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  73 

and  the  mendicants,  and  when  he  witnessed  the  iniqui- 
ties of  the  indnlgence-shambles,  and  knew  that  the 
money  there  gathered  was  for  that  monster  John  XXIII., 
he  had  lifted  up  the  thunders  of  his  denunciations,  like 
the  great  Florentine  reformer  himself;  and  the  sinners 
in  Germany  and  in  Rome  fairly  quailed  before  the 
Bethlehem  preacher.  Yes,  they  quailed,  but  they 
plotted  for  his  downfall ;  and  now  they  had  him  in 
their  grasp,  and  they  resolved  that  he  should  never  go 
forth  again.  Just  fancy  such  a  bench  set  in  judgment 
on  such  a  man.  Just  fancy  these  Italian  villains  in 
holy  orders  who,  according  to  a  Roman  Catholic  histor- 
ian, brought  with  them  to  Constance  openly  seven 
hundred  courtesans,  daring  to  judge  a  pure  and  noble 
man  like  our  Bohemian  witness ;  and  ruling  over  them 
all  was  a  pope,  one  John  XXIII.,  whom  that  very 
council  was  at  last  forced  to  degrade  and  imprison,  and 
whom  as  they  degraded  him  they  charged  with  every 
sin  from  theft  to  murder.  As  described  by  his  secre- 
taries the  character  of  this  pope  was  a  monstrous  com- 
j)ound  of  all  the  vices  that  can  make  a  man  detestable 
and  odious.  While  the  great  powers  of  this  Balthasar 
Cossa  are  admitted,  they  serve  merely  as  a  gigantic 
frame  to  a  picture  of  correspondingly  enormous  deprav- 
ity. Nein  speaks  of  him  as  "a  monster  of  various 
ambition,  cruelty,  violence,  injustice  and  the  most  horrid 
sensuality."  "  A  pirate  in  his  youth,  he  was  fitter  for 
the  trade  of  a  bandit  than  the  office  of  a  pope."  "  He 
was  the  tyrant  of  Bologna,"  "  The  mirror  of  infamy — 
the  slave  of  lasciviousness — the  bond  of  vice — the 
poisoner  of  Alexander  V. — the  incarnate  devil." 

Yet  this  was  the  man  who  was  seated  in  the  chair  of 
authority  as  high  as  that  of  the  emperor  himself;  "a 
6 


74  JOHN    IIUSS, 

chair  covered  with  drapery  of  gold,  the  triple  crown 
borne  by  the  hands  of  cardinals  and  placed  upon  his 
head  when  he  took  his  seat."  As  joint  head  of  the 
council  with  that  false  pope  there  sat  that  meanest  of 
men,  the  cowardly  and  unfaithful  Sigismund,  then 
wearer  of  the  imperial  purple.  Upon  a  throne  magnif- 
icently adorned,  placed  upon  the  right  hand  of  the  pope, 
sat  the  false  king ;  while  upon  Sigismund's  left  hand, 
upon  a  royal  seat,  was  that  woman  of  infomous  morals 
and  abandoned  character,  the  empress  Barbara,  whom 
Sigismund,  when  seized  and  imprisoned  by  some  of  his 
mighty  subjects,  had  been  compelled  to  marry  as  the 
sole  condition  of  his  liberation.  Upon  the  other  side 
of  the  emperor  sat  the  Marquis  of  Brandenburg,  who 
again  was  supported  by  the  Duke  of  Saxony,  bearing 
as  grand  marshal  of  the  empire  the  sword  of  state. 
Immediately  behind  the  emperor  and  the  pope  stood 
Count  Cilley,  the  father-in-law  of  Sigismund,  holding 
in  his  hand  the  golden  apple  typifying  the  globe.  Be- 
fore the  emperor  lay  the  huge  sword  recently  presented 
to  Sigismund  by  the  pope,  with  the  charge  to  wield  it 
in  defence  of  the  Church.  Little  did  Sigismund  think 
that  the  first  to  suffer  should  be  his  own  brave,  noble  sub- 
ject John  Huss,  to  whom  the  emperor  had  as  friend  given 
his  personal  promise  of  protection,  and  as  king  his  faith- 
ful safe-conduct.  That  large  sealed  parchment  containing 
the  imperial  safe-conduct  read  as  follows:  "Sigismund, 
by  the  grace  of  God  king  of  the  Romans,  etc.,  etc. :  To 
all  princes,  ecclesiastical  and  lay,  and  to  our  other  sub- 
jects, greeting.  Of  our  full  affection  we  recommend  to 
all  in  general  and  to  each  individually  the  honorable 
man.  Master  John  Huss,  Bachelor  in  Theology  and 
Master  of  Arts,  the  bearer  of  these  presents,  going  from 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  75 

Bohemia  to  the  council  of  Constance,  whom  we  have 
taken  under  our  protection  and  safeguard  and  under 
that  of  the  empire,  requiring  when  he  arrives  among 
you  that  you  will  receive  him  kindly  and  treat  him 
favorably,  furnishing  him  whatever  shall  be  necessary 
to  promote  and  secure  his  journey,  whether  by  water 
or  by  land,  without  taking  anything  from  him  or  his  on 
any  claim  whatsoever,  but  let  him  truly  and  securely 
pass,  sojourn,  stop  and  return,  providing  him  if  neces- 
sary with  good  passports,  to  the  honor  and  respect  of 
the  imperial  majesty.  Given  at  Spires,  October  18, 
1414." 

Solemn  document  surely.  Right  royal  safe-conduct. 
And  yet  Huss  is  a  prisoner,  and  Huss  is  left  to  his  fate 
by  that  coward  king,  and  that  act  of  falsity  and  weak- 
ness was  the  first  thing  that  ever  shook  the  attachment 
of  Protestant  Germany  to  the  Austrian  throne,  and  the 
sin  of  Sigismund  against  John  Huss  has  lain  heavy 
against  his  line.  At  one  moment  during  the  council 
John  Huss  spoke  boldly  of  maintaining  public  faith  and 
keeping  true  to  promise  ;  and  turning  round  he  fixed 
his  eyes  steadily  upon  the  recreant  emperor,  and  told 
of  the  safe-conduct  which  he  had  received  from  the 
royal  hands.  Sigismund  covered  his  face,  and  well  he 
might,  for  the  deep  blush  crimsoned  all  his  countenance. 
Sigismund's  blush  was  never  forgotten.  The  shame 
and  meanness  of  that  man  lived  on  in  the  memories  of 
the  German  men,  kings  and  subjects.  To  that  blush  of 
Sigismund  the  safety  of  Luther  perhaps  a  century  later 
was  in  part  due,  for  when  at  the  celebrated  Diet  of 
Worms  Charles  V.  was  pressed  to  consent  to  the  seizure 
of  the  Saxon  reformer  in  contempt  of  the  imperial  safe- 
conduct   granted   to    Luther,  that    warrior   king,  with 


76  JOHN    HUSS, 

the  honor  of  a  Spanish  gentleman,  gave  this  indignant 
answer  to  the  foul  proposal :  "  No,  no ;  I  should  not  like 
to  blush  like  Sigismund."  Yes,  and  there  was  another 
answer  given,  and  that  answer  was  John  Ziska's,  who 
led,  blind  conqueror,  his  troops  from  victory  to  victory, 
scattered  the  emperor's  forces  once  and  again,  and  often 
baffled  the  plans  of  the  emperor,  and  on  whose  tomb 
these  M'ords  were  engraven  :  ''•  Huss,  here  rests  John 
Ziska,  thine  avenger,  and  the  emperor  himself  has 
quailed  before  him." 

By  such  a  bench  the  trial  of  such  a  man  as  John 
Huss  was  a  mere  mockery.  The  end  was  plain  from 
the  very  beginning.  The  treacherous  arrest,  the  cruel 
imprisonment,  the  harsh  treatment  during  his  trial,  all 
showed  plainly  that  there  could  be  but  one  end.  He 
was  taken  from  his  quiet  home,  in  the  house  of  the 
godly  widow  beside  the  Schnetzthor,  to  the  prison  of 
the  Dominican  monastery  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine. 
Had  his  bitter  foes  designed  to  slay  him  ere  he  was 
tried,  they  could  not  have  selected  a  place  of  confinement 
more  fit  to  accomplish  their  end.  The  monastery  was 
situated  in  the  spot  where  the  Rhine  dashes  forth  from 
the  Lake  Constance ;  the  prisons  were  all  underground, 
and  into  the  foulest  of  the  dungeons  was  Huss  flung — 
a  deadly  den,  through  which  the  sewers  passed  and  into 
which  they  freely  leaked  as  they  carried  their  filthy 
tides  into  the  lake.  The  deathful  stench  and  foul  air 
and  filth  of  the  place  acted  quickly  on  the  noble  victim. 
A  violent  fever  in  a  few  hours  set  in,  and  the  life  of 
John  Huss  trembled  in  the  balance.  From  this  noisome 
and  abominable  hole,  that  left  him  a  wreck  and  covered 
him  with  sores,  Huss  was  carried,  by  order  of  the 
Bishop    of    Constance,    to    the    castle    of    Gottlieben. 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  77 

Armed  men  sat  in  the  boat  beside  the  prisoner,  who 
was  fainting  in  his  weakness  and  yet  was  loaded  with 
heavy  chains,  till  the  jailers  reached  the  castle  on  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine,  three  miles  distant  from  Constance. 
He  was  placed  in  the  lowest  cell.  Would  you  know 
the  place  ?  Come  with  me  into  this  low  vaulted  room ; 
chains  and  heavy  bars,  and  iron  rings  in  floor  and  walls, 
its  only  furniture.  Yet  this  had  been  a  comfortable 
home  in  comparison  with  that  which  we  shall  now  see. 
Look  at  your  feet,  and  you  see  an  iron  trap-door. 
Stand  back  till  it  be  opened.  Look  as  the  light  is 
lowered.  A  pulley  and  a  rope  you  see,  and  a  pit  deep 
under  ground.  Yes,  fifteen  fathoms  below  where  we 
stand,  and  so  small  that  a  man  like  Huss  cannot  stand 
in  it;  and  down  there,  irons  fastened  to  his  feet,  his 
arms  chained  to  the  wall,  John  Huss  lay.  Thence  this 
man  of  boldest  spirit,  able  to  stand  up  alone  in  the 
strength  of  God  against  this  host  of  enemies  who 
thirsted  for  his  blood, — thence,  weak,  fever-wasted, 
chain-galled,  Christ's  faithful  witness  was  brought  three 
separate  times  to  plead  before  these  persecutors,  and 
the  charges  read  are  false  charges,  and  they  are  sup- 
ported by  forged  and  feigned  evidence. 

John  Huss  bravely  defends  himself;  but  the  moment 
the  intrepid  reformer  essayed  to  speak,  his  voice  was 
instantly  drowned  in  contemptuous  laughter,  in  shouted 
insults  and  disgraceful  clamor.  An  eye-witness  says, 
"  It  was  a  noble  man  among  devils,  a  holy  man  among 
fiendish  brutes."  Martin  Luther  says  of  it  in  his  own 
bold,  vigorous  terms,  "  All  worked  themselves  into  rage 
like  wild  boars ;  the  bristles  of  their  back  stood  on  end; 
they  bent  their  brows,  they  gnashed  their  teeth  against 
John  Huss."     Yet  even  this   did   not  cause  the  firm- 


78  JOHN    HUSS, 

souled  man  once  to  quail,  and  the  secret  of  his  strength 
may  best  be  told  in  his  own  simple  words.  "  There  were 
given  to  me  by  God  boldness  and  presence  of  mind. 
They  tried  to  frighten  me  from  my  constancy  in  the 
truth  of  Christ,  but  they  could  not  vanquish  the  strength 
of  God  in  me." 

Thus  they  tried  him,  and  they  easily  and  quickly 
found  him  guilty ;  and  the  sentence  was  that  "  the  arch 
heretic,"  the  "  son  of  perdition,"  should  be  burned,  and 
his  ashes  scattered  on  the  Rhine. 

On  July  G,  1415,  the  great  hall  of  the  council  is 
packed  to  suffocation.  Tall,  noble,  calm,  patient,  pray- 
erful, though  weak  and  wasted,  John  Huss  stands  once 
more  before  them  all.  Scorn  and  derision  are  plainly 
marked  upon  the  features  of  the  members  of  that  cruel 
council.  They  mock  and  sneer  at  the  man.  The  last 
act  of  the  tragedy  begins.  To  him  approach  his  two 
fierce  enemies,  the  Bishop  of  Prague  and  Michael  de 
Causis,  who  now  clothe  him  in  his  robes  of  office,  as  if 
he  were  about  to  celebrate  mass,  and  they  place  the 
sacred  chalice  in  his  hand.  As  they  put  the  white  robe 
upon  him  John  Huss  quietly  says,  "  My  Master,  Jesus 
Christ,  when  he  was  sent  away  by  Herod  to  Pilate  was 
clothed  in  a  white  robe."  The  bishops  now  call  upon 
him  to  recant.  John  Huss  says,  "  I  fear  to  do  it  lest 
hereafter  I  be  charged  with  falsehood  before  God ;  be- 
cause if  I  should  do  as  ye  command  I  should  confess 
myself  to  be  guilty  of  errors  of  which  I  was  never 
conscious,  and  thus  sin  against  my  conscience  and  divine 
truth  at  once."  Now  Huss  is  commanded  to  leave  his 
seat,  to  descend  from  the  platform.  The  chalice  is 
violently  snatched  from  his  hands.  He  is  stripped  of 
the  priestly  robes.     He  is  insulted  with  these  words  : 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  79 

"  0  thou  cursed  Judas  !  who,  breaking  away  from  the 
counsels  of  peace,  hast  consulted  with  the  Jews !  be- 
hold, we  take  from  thee  this  chalice,  in  which  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  redemption  of  the  world  is 
offered."  "  I  have  all  hope  and  confidence  fixed  in  my 
God  and  Saviour  that  he  will  never  take  from  me  the 
cup  of  salvation,  and  I  abide  firm  in  my  belief  that, 
aided  by  His  grace,  I  shall  this  day  drink  of  it  in  His 
kingdom."  Now  they  curse  him.  Now  they  cruelly 
mutilate  his  saintly  head  to  erase  the  priest's  tonsure. 
Now  they  clothe  him  with  the  robe  of  shame,  on  which 
all  fiends  and  foul  things  were  painted.  They  place 
upon  his  head  the  paper  crown  which  he  is  in  mockery 
to  wear  to  the  place  of  execution,  and  which  in  derision 
is  covered  with  pictured  fiends,  and  on  which  is  written, 
"  The  arch  heretic  devoted  to  the  devils  of  hell."  Then 
comes  the  final  sentence,  "  We  devote  thy  soul  to  the 
devil  and  to  hell."  "  But  I,"  said  John  Huss,  with  a 
voice  that  rang  throughout  all  the  hall,  his  eyes  lifted 
up  to  heaven,  his  hands  reverently  folded,  "  I  commend 
it  to  my  Saviour  and  most  merciful  Master,  Jesus 
Christ."  Huss  is  now,  according  to  Rome's  crafty  plan, 
surrendered  by  the  Church  to  the  emperor,  by  him  to 
the  elector  palatine,  by  him  to  the  magistrates  of  Con- 
stance, and  by  them  to  the  executioners.  Chained  be- 
tween four  sergeants  walked  John  Huss,  saying,  "  Lord 
Jesus,  I  gladly  wear  this  cap  of  shame  for  thee,  who 
wore  for  me  a  crown  of  thorns."  The  princes  and  their 
escort  of  eight  hundred  armed  men  are  there ;  the 
bishops  and  their  clergy  are  there;  an  immense  multitude 
is  there,  and  the  whole  sad  procession  moves  past  the 
council-church,  past  the  episcopal  palace,  past  the  fire 
in  the  palace  square,  where  the  prisoner's  writings  are 


80  JOHN    HUSS, 

heaped  up  for  the  flames  to  consume — over  the  bridge 
shaking  under  the  weight  of  the  massed  multitude,  out 
through  the  gate  of  Gottlieben,  down  through  the  pleas- 
ant suburbs  and  the  smiling  gardens,  out  and  across  the 
green  quiet  meadow,  onward  to  the  stake,  the  gathered 
straw,  the  pile  of  oiled  w^ood.  There  they  bind  him, 
as  he  is  repeating  the  penitential  Psalms,  they  befoul 
him  with  soot,  they  cover  his  face  with  slime.  The 
straw  is  piled  up  to  his  chin,  he  is  fired,  and  they  leave 
him  to  die  as  he  prays,  "  Jesus,  Son  of  the  living  God, 
have  pity  on  me."  Then  he  sings,  he  prays,  he  bows 
his  head,  he  lifts  it  once  more  and  a  smile  plays  upon 
it ;  he  breathes  his  last,  and  he  is  with  Christ.  And  now 
the  fire  slackens.  A  charred  corpse  is  hanging  to  the 
stake  by  the  iron  chain.  They  take  away  the  burned 
corpse.  Away  !  Yes  !  they  take  it  to  tear  it  in  pieces 
small  as  possible,  to  toss  the  reeking  fragments  back,  to 
stir  the  fire  once  more  that  all  may  be  consumed ! 
They  dash  the  bones  and  limbs  upon  the  stones  to  break 
them  that  they  may  be  the  sooner  burned.  His  head 
has  rolled  down ;  it  is  beaten  to  pieces  with  a  club  and 
flung  into  the  flames  again.  His  heart,  just  found,  is 
pierced  by  a  sharp  stick,  and,  in  the  words  of  an  eye- 
witness, "  roasted  at  a  separate  fire  till  it  was  reduced 
to  ashes."  Then  they  gather  the  ashes  and  fling  them 
to  the  Rhine. 

They  talk  of  consecrated  spots.  Yes,  there  are  hal- 
lowed scenes :  that  old  amphitheatre  at  Rome,  that 
London  Smithfield,  that  Edinborough  Grassmarket,  that 
old  Culdee  Height  at  Saint  Andrews,  that  place  of  ex- 
ecution in  Madrid,  the  Inquisition  at  Seville,  and  this 
flowing  Rhine,  all  hallowed  spots !  Rhine,  father 
Rhine !  many  a  precious  burden  hast  thou  borne,  but 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  81 

none  dearer,  more  sacred,  than  the  ashes  of  this  Bohe- 
mian martyr.  Bear  them  safely,  let  hot  one  be  lost ! 
Down,  and  down,  to  Germany  the  ashes  have  floated, 
touched  the  sod  and  hallowed  it.  Outward  to  the  Ger- 
man sea  they  have  floated,  and  onward  to  England,  up- 
ward to  Scotland,  round  the  British  coasts  to  the  ocean, 
and  outward  to  the  free  West,  and  Germany  and  Eng- 
land and  America  have  avenged  God's  martyred  saint. 
The  mock  trial  and  cruel  murder  of  Huss  were  speedily 
followed  by  the  arrest,  the  sentence  and  execution  of 
his  friend  and  pupil,  the  impulsive  and  eloquent  Jerome 
of  Prague.  Two  treacherous  arrests  !  two  foul  murders  ! 
And  by  a  church-council  at  Constance  summoned  for 
reform  ! 

Yes,  Constance  is  the  spot  stained  by  Rome  with  the 
double  blood-tides  of  a  double  murder.  Constance  is 
thus  the  abiding  proof  of  the  craft,  the  falsehood,  the 
cruelty  of  that  papal  Rome  through  which  our  fathers' 
blood  w^as  shed.  Yes,  of  that  ultramontane  Rome 
which  claims  at  this  very  hour  supremest  rule  in  every 
home,  in  every  school,  in  every  land  !  Yes,  of  that 
despotic  Rome  whose  full  development  in  God-defying 
doctrines  we  see  to-day ;  of  that  Rome  which  seeks  and 
demands  the  absolute  control  of  all  thought  and  educa- 
tion ;  of  that  Rome  which  has  desolated  France,  de- 
stroyed Spain,  convulsed  Italy,  imperilled  the  cantons  of 
Switzerland  by  repeated  religious  strifes,  and  is  at  this 
very  hour  provoking  in  Ireland  and  in  the  German  em- 
pire the  deadliest  passions.  Yes,  of  that  proud,  blas- 
phemous, Jesuit-ruled  Rome  which  has  by  her  most 
recent  legislation  provoked  her  best  sons  and  best 
scholars  to  rebellion,  and  precipitated  a  momentous 
revolution    in  her  own   hitherto   closely-united  realm ! 


82  JOHN    HUSS, 

Strange,  verily,  the  retributions  of  history.  Four  hun- 
dred years  ago  Rome  stepped  to  glory  on  the  necks  of 
kings.  To-day,  who  so  poor  as  do  her  reverence.  Four 
hundred  years  of  battle  have  come  and  gone,  four 
centuries  and  a  half  of  revolutions  have  sped  quickly 
away,  and  we  stand  amid  the  thick-crowding  wonders 
of  our  time,  one  of  the  world's  most  marvellous  and 
mighty  ages  ;  and  again  to  that  little  city  on  the  old 
historic  lake  amid  the  mountains  have  gathered  the 
members  of  another  church-council.  That  new  council 
is  also  a  court.  Once  more  an  investigation  proceeds. 
Once  more  a  prisoner  is  at  the  bar,  if  not  in  actual  per- 
son, yet  really  before  the  minds  of  the  judges.  Once 
again  a  sentence  is  pronounced,  once  again  a  separation 
and  a  death-blow.  Who  is  the  prisoner  now  ?  No  more 
a  protester  against  papal  abuses;  no  more  a  lone  witness 
for  God's  truth ;  no  more  a  single  brave  pleader  for  free 
national  life,  for  free  thought,  for  free  conscience,  for 
free  worship ;  no  more  any  single  successor  of  Huss  or 
Jerome  or  Savonarola  or  Patrick  Hamilton ;  no,  verily  : 
the  culprit  is  now  the  proud  Pio  Nono,  stubborn  suc- 
cessor of  Hildebrand  and  of  Innocent,  the  man  who  has 
falsified  all  his  early  vows,  blasted  his  early  promises, 
betrayed  the  hopes  of  his  countrymen,  and  carried  to 
their  last  fell  development  the  ideas  of  Gregory  and 
those  haughty  priest-kings  who  would  make  Rome  high 
as  the  throne  of  God.  Yes,  as  this  second  council  meets 
in  Constance,  the  prisoner  to  be  condemned  is  the  pope 
of  Rome,  Pius  IX.,  the  opponent  of  all  reform,  the  op- 
pressor of  national  life,  the  calumniator  of  science  and 
thought,  the  would-be  enchainer  of  mind,  the  would-be 
despot  of  conscience,  the  persecutor  of  the  Jew,  the 
willing    tool    in  the   hands  of  the  Jesuit  society,  the 


THE    FLAME    OF    BOHEMIA.  83 

deifier  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  the  blasphemous  claimer 
of  infallibility.  Verily  God  is  in  history.  In  1415 
John  Huss  died  at  Constance,  and  at  Constance  in  1873 
died  the  unity  of  the  papacy,  the  unchallenged  supre- 
macy of  the  pope  of  Rome.  The  work  of  Hildebrand  is 
overthrown,  the  decrees  of  Innocent,  the  misnamed, 
flung  to  the  winds,  and  the  free  independent  Church — 
not  seeking  papal  recognition,  not  acknowledging  papal 
rule — arises  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Jesuits'  Church, 
which  having  once  by  fire  and  sword  laid  all  the  wit- 
nesses dead,  said  in  triumph  and  in  gladness,  "  The 
earth  rests."  Rests  !  No  !  Enceladus  never  rests  be- 
neath Etna !  Rests !  No !  the  earth  never  rested 
under  Rome's  tyranny  and  sin !  Claudius  of  Turin, 
Arnold  of  Brescia,  Peter  of  Valdo,  gave  Rome  no  rest. 
They  fought  the  tyrant ;  under  that  attack  Rome  trem- 
bled. Then  WyclilTe  the  brave,  plain  Englishman, 
"  morning  star  of  the  Reformation,"  entered  the  fight 
and  waged  bravest  battle,  till  he  shook  to  its  foundation 
the  ecclesiastical  power  of  the  Vatican.  Wycliffe  gave 
birth  to  Huss  and  Jerome ;  and  John  Huss,  through  the 
Hussites,  the  Moravians  and  the  spiritual  Mystics  of 
Germany,  was  the  ancestor  of  Luther.  Luther  gave 
new  life  to  Germany,  and  Germany  never  rested  till 
she  gave  birth  to  the  old  Catholic  Church.  And  here 
in  Constance,  duly  organized,  earnest,  intellectual, 
mighty,  vigorous  and  promising,  the  new  Church  holds 
its  first  great  council. 

Verily,  Huss  and  Jerome,  ye  are  avenged  of  the 
Lord  !  In  one  hundred  years  after  your  murder  Luther 
arose ;  two  hundred  years  after  your  death  the  Puri- 
tans began  to  lay  the  foundation  of  the  great  Protestant 
nations  of   America ;   three  hundred  years  after  your 


84  JOHN    HUSS. 

martyrdom  saw  England  established  as  a  Protestant 
realm ;  four  hundred  years  after  your  ashes  were  scat- 
tered to  wind  and  water  beheld  the  first  great  downfall 
of  France,  the  prop  of  the  papacy ;  and  the  fifth  century 
saw  the  utter  defeat  of  France  at  Sedan,  the  loss  of  the 
temporal  power  of  the  papacy,  the  crowning  victories 
of  the  Luther-loving  Protestants  of  Prussia,  and  the 
rise,  establishment  and  consolidation  of  the  old  Catholic 
Church  at  Constance.  Verily  these  are  wondrous  works 
of  the  God  of  history  !  To-day  we  see  the  Christian 
Protestant  world  in  a  wholly  new  epoch,  approaching  a 
new  crisis,  preparing  for  a  new  strife,  for  the  old  battle 
is  gained.  Freedom  of  conscience,  freedom  of  worship, 
freedom  of  the  word,  are  settled.  Yes,  mighty  is  the 
truth,  and  it  is  prevailing :  the  truth  which  is  the  glory 
of  the  Church,  the  inspiration  of  mind,  the  hope  of  the 
world,  the  truth  for  which  our  fathers  bled,  the  truth 
which  Huss  loved  and  Jerome  preached,  the  truth  of 
which  the  brave  Bohemian  said,  "  Though  pontiff  and 
priests  and  you  Pharisees  condemn  it  in  me  and  burn 
both  it  and  me,  that  truth  shall  yet  rise  by  God's 
strength  from  my  tomb  and  vanquish  you  all."  John 
Huss  was  bound,  but  the  word  of  God  is  not  bound, 
the  word  of  the  Lord  liveth  and  abideth  forever,  it  hath 
free  course  and  is  glorified. 

"  E'en  in  my  failure,  I  am  comforted 
To  know  that  not  myself  the  lejfions  led, 
The  legions  of  God's  children  ;  but  while  I, 
Defeated,  thus  with  my  poor  comrades  lie, 
God  waves  the  army  on  to  victory." 


GIROLAMO  SAVONAROLA, 

'^m\.  ^asf«  and  ^ortgt  of  |'lot«iit<. 


"  'Tis  much  he  dares ; 
And,  to  that  dauntless  temper  of  his  mind, 
He  hath  a  wisdom  that  doth  guide  his  valor." 

"  A  storm-cloud  lurid  with  lightning, 
And  a  cry  of  lamentation 
Repeated  and  again  repeated 
Deep  and  loud 
As  the  reverberation 
Of  cloud  answering  unto  cloud." 


AUTHORITIES. 


Ullman  ;  Bonnechose  ;  Milman  ;  Rudelbach  ;  Myer  •,  Villari ;  Meier  ; 
Lives  of  the  Popes ;  Roscoe's  Works ;  various  books  on  Florence ;  Ro- 
mola ;  The  Makers  of  Florence  ;  Farrar's  Witness  of  History ;  The 
Dark  Ages ;  and  numerous  articles  in  revievrs  and  cyclopeedias. 


GIROLAMO  SAVONAROLA, 

MONK,  MASTER  AND  MARTYR  OF  FLORENCE. 


"  Then  the  Lord  put  forth  his  hand,  and  touched  mt  mouth.  And 
THE  Lord  said  unto  me,  Behold,  I  have  put  my  words  in  thy 
mouth.     See,  I  have  this  day  set  thee  over   the   nations  and 

OVER    THE    kingdoms,  TO    ROOT    OUT,   AND    TO    PULL    DOWN,  AND    TO    DE- 
STROY, AND  TO  THROW  DOWN.'' — Jeremiah  i.  9,  10. 

Scenes  and  lands  there  are  where  few  or  none  expect 
to  find  beauty,  grandeur  or  wealth  ;  yet  there  the  beauty 
flashes  on  you  like  the  quick  sun-bursts  of  a  spring 
day ;  there  the  grandeur  starts  forth  suddenly  to  awe 
you  like  the  glories  of  the  heavens  breaking  on  you 
from  rifted  clouds  and  through  floating  mists ;  there  the 
wealth  is  suddenly  revealed  like  the  quick  opening  of  a 
royal  treasure-chamber. 

Africa  has  been  for  centuries  held  to  be  a  land  devoid 
of  beauty,  grandeur  and  importance.  Men  have  for  ages 
spoken  of  it  disparagingly  or  pityingly.  Can  any  good 
thing  come  out  of  that  modern  Nazareth  ? — the  breed- 
ing-ground of  slaves,  the  unknown  land  of  savagery. 
Yet  one  man  opens  to  us  in  his  missionary  daring  that 
land  of  darkness,  and  it  floods  our  sight  with  great  tides 
of  wonder,  beauty  and  grandeur;  and  now  the  old 
South  African  fields  are  yielding  up  their  long-treasured 
stores  of  gems  to  enrich  the  European  adventurers,  to 
enhance  the  beauty  of  European  women  and  increase 
the  charms  of  European  society.     The  old  land  of  Ham 


88  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

grows  to  be  a  very  land  of  wonders  to  the  hardy  sons 
of  Japhet. 

As  there  are  scenes  and  lands  where  little  is  expected, 
so  are  there  societies  wherein  is  expected  but  little  of 
majesty,  of  noble  character,  of  sublime  struggling  after 
good,  of  holy  enthusiasm,  of  grandest  moral  daring,  of 
fiery  zeal  against  abuses,  of  purest  patriotism,  of  most 
self-forgetting  toil,  of  most  tragic  suffering,  of  most 
thrilliHg,  soul-moving  martyrdom.  Yes,  before  every 
man  rise  up  societies  which  to  him  are  as  Nazareth  to 
the  old  Jewish  rabbi — places  necessarily  destitute  of  all 
good,  the  natural  breeding- ground  of  all  evil  and  loath- 
some things. 

To  Protestants  are  not  the  monastic  orders  of  the 
Church  of  Rome  just  such  ?  What  thoughts  rise  up, 
and  not  unnaturally,  not  without  historic  justification, 
at  the  mention  of  these  orders  ?  At  the  best,  idleness, 
ignorance,  self-indulgenCe,  and  at  the  worst  a  more  than 
Augean  filth,  polluting  the  corridors  and  the  halls  of 
monasteries,  a  moral  blackness  thicker  than  the  old 
Egyptian  gloom.  Such  the  ideas  that  gather  about  the 
monastic  orders  of  Rome,  especially  in  the  dark  days 
of  the  bloody  Borgias. 

And  of  all  orders,  what  so  detestable,  what  so  hateful 
to  our  Protestant  souls  as  the  blood-stained  company  of 
Dominic  ?  The  Dominicans  ! — order  of  merciless  perse- 
cutors, founded  in  1215  by  that  Dominic  ce  Guzman 
who,  failing  to  convert  to  popery  the  Waldenses,  insti- 
gated the  pope  to  proclaim  those  two  frightful  crusades 
in  which  the  Alpine  hills  were  left  gory  with  the  blood 
of  Christ's  faithful  servants  :  the  Dominicans  ! — apos- 
tles of  cruelty,  willing  engineers  of  the  hellish  Inquisi- 
tion, order  of  the  infixmous  Torquemada,  who  in  sixteen 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  89 

years  burned  nine  thousand  victims  :  the  Dominicans ! 
— order  of  Diego  Deza,  who  for  eight  years  never  left 
a  single  day  without  a  stake,  a  fire  and  a  Protestant 
martyr :  the  Dominicans  indeed !  can  any  good  thing 
come  out  of  that  horrid  place  of  cruelty  ?  Yet  out  of 
it  did  come  Albertus  Magnus,  the  light  of  his  day ;  out 
of  it  came  Thomas  Aquinas,  the  normal  theologian  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  one  of  the  profoundest  minds 
that  ever  tried  to  fathom  the  deep  things  of  God,  the 
greatest  of  the  schoolmen,  the  universal  and  angelical 
doctor,  the  second  Augustine,  the  father  of  moral  phil- 
osophy, the  stern  opponent  of  the  Immaculate  Concep- 
tion, and  the  starter  of  questions  that  hurried  on  the 
Reformation. 

And  to-night  we  shall  find,  I  think,  a  real  man,  a 
grand,  masterly,  noble  man,  whose  Italian  enthusiasm, 
whose  vast  insight  into  character,  whose  great  learning, 
whose  intellectual  earnestness,  w^hose  power  of  leader- 
ship, whose  force  in  preaching,  have  never  been  sur- 
passed, whether  regarded  in  their  own  splendor  or  in 
the  sublimity  of  their  consecration  to  God  ;  and  we  shall 
find  him  in  a  Dominican  convent  at  Bologna. 

Bologna,  old  city  among  the  oldest  of  Italy ;  curious 
city,  the  rival  in  many  striking  points  of  Rome  herself; 
Bologna,  lying  in  exquisite  beauty  and  amid  teeming 
fertility  below  the  Apennines,  watered  by  the  Reno  and 
Surena ;  Bologna,  proud  in  historic  recollections  and 
gorgeous  with  palaces,  is  famous  for  great  treaties,  for 
striking  antiquity,  for  men  of  renown ;  famous  for  its 
old  university,  where  ten  thousand  students  often  gath- 
ered, and  where  for  centuries  learned  ladies  lectured  as 
professors.  Bologna  is  famous  also  because  of  one  old 
convent,  in  whose  cloistered  shades  we  are  now  resting. 


90  GIROLAMO   SAVONAROLA, 

It  is  the  Dominican  convent  of  Bologna.  Here,  in  1221, 
breathed  his  last  that  monk  whose  religious  zeal  ate  out 
his  very  heart,  the  great  though  cruel  Dominic,  founder 
of  the  order ;  and  here,  on  the  night  of  the  24th  of 
April,  1475,  began  his  new  life  Girolamo  Savonarola, 
monk  of  the  austerest  virtue,  preacher  of  unsurpassed 
power,  prince  of  the  Sacred  Republic,  martyred  oppo- 
nent of  Rome's  sin  and  marvellous  forerunner  of  the 
Reformation. 

The  Monk  in  the  Convent  at  Bologna. 

On  the  night  of  the  24th  of  April,  1475,  began,  I 
say,  his  ecclesiastical  career.     Why  at  night  ? 

He  has  fled  from  his  home  to  become  a  monk.  Girol- 
amo or  Jerome  Savonarola  was  born  at  Ferrara  on  Sep- 
tember 21,  1452,  and  he  is  now  therefore  a  young  monk 
of  two  and  twenty  and  a  half  years  of  age.  His  was 
a  noble  family.  Padua  knew  them  well  and  had  called 
one  of  her  fairest  gates  by  their  name. 

For  generations  they  were  distinguished  for  their  in- 
telligence, scholarship  and  moral  worth.  One  of  the 
greatest  physicians  of  his  day  was  Michael  Savonarola, 
and  Nicholas,  prince  of  Este,  invited  him  to  Ferrara  to 
be  his  own  medical  attendant,  trusted  counsellor  and 
friend. 

Guardian  of  the  health  of  princes,  the  good  man  was 
also  the  friend  of  the  poor,  and  very  soon  became  the 
idol  of  the  destitute  and  the  suffering.  Like  his  Master, 
this  really  Christian  physician  went  about  continually 
doing  good,  healing  the  bodies  of  the  sick  poor  and 
speaking  Christ's  evangel  to  the  souls  of  the  friendless 
outcasts. 

The  old  doctor's  son  was  called  Michael  likewise,  and 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  91 

he  married  an  earnest,  noble  Christian  woman,  Helena 
Buonaccorsi.  Sons  and  daughters  filled  their  home,  and 
it  was  a  happy,  loving,  thoughtful  and  religious  house- 
hold. There  Girolamo,  the  third  child,  grew  up  amid 
noblest  memories  and  under  blessed  and  stimulating 
influences.  Thoughtful,  meditative,  serious,  the  boy 
prophesied  the  man.  He  sought  the  loneliest  scenes 
of  the  neighborhood,  mused  in  them  for  hours,  and  came 
home  often  pale  as  death  after  these  deep  searchings  of 
heart  and  those  stern,  solemn  thoughts  which,  like  flood- 
ing waves,  had  filled  his  soul.  He  walked  the  old  hos- 
pital paths  of  his  grandfather,  reading  the  miseries,  the 
solemn  mysteries,  the  sublime  meaning  of  this  life  and 
its  sorrows.  Even  in  his  young  hours  there  were  great 
depths  of  religious  passion  within  the  boy ;  and  the  soul- 
less frivolities  of  the  times  and  the  godless  pleasures  of 
his  city  only  fired  him  with  a  more  ardent  zeal  against 
these  abuses.  He  fled  from  the  garden  where  the  grand 
duke  made  holiday  and  fostered  sin  at  once.  Yet  the 
pure-souled  lad  was  no  puling  craven,  for  a  boldness 
that  feared  no  danger  ever  marked  him  on  the  mountain- 
path,  and  a  moral  courage  that  frowned  most  sternly 
upon  the  richest  and  proudest  sinners  early  distinguished 
him  in  Ferrara. 

As  a  youth  and  student  he  stood  a  Saul  among  his 
fellows,  lofty  and  lonely.  Men  spoke  wonderingly  of 
that  sad-eyed,  solitary,  self-possessed  son  of  Michael 
Savonarola,  and  asked  doubtfully,  would  he  become  as 
successful  a  physician  as  his  noble  'grandfather ;  for 
physician  his  father  had  resolved  that  Girolamo,  with 
his  broad  brow  and  deep  eye,  with  his  quick  judgment 
and  skillful,  pliant  fingers,  should  become.  "  Yes,"  said 
all  the  friends  of  the  family,  "  he  must  be  a  physician." 


92  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

But  "  No,"  said  the  youth  himself,  "  I  cannot  abide  this 
riot  and  revel,  this  Sodomite  luxury,  this  Gomorrhene 
godlessness.  I  will  get  me  up  into  a  higher  and  holier 
realm,  Avhere  I  can  nourish  the  pure  and  noble  within 
me,  live  clear  of  these  lusts  and  sins,  and  on  the  mount- 
ain lands  of  faith  and  devotion  keep  unbroken  com- 
munion with  my  God,  and  myself  unspotted  from  the 
world." 

Remember  that  we  are  far  back  in  the  world's  his- 
tory. Remember  that  in  this  year  1475  nothing  but 
Roman  Catholicism  is  known.  Remember  that,  bad  as 
many  monasteries  were,  all  of  purity  and  truth  and 
virtue  to  be  then  discerned  gathered  within  their  walls. 
Remember  that  these  religious  houses  were  in  that  hour 
the  recognized  asylums  for  the  wearied  with  this  world, 
the  only  apparent  gateway  to  that  narrow  road  which 
leads  upward  to  the  holy  city  of  God. 

Away  then  stole  this  strange  young  man  out  of  a 
wealthy,  noble,  historic  family ;  away  from  a  loving 
father  and  mother,  from  high-spirited  brothers  and  affec- 
tionate sisters,  from  all  the  seductive  influences  of  the 
highest  society,  from  the  powers  and  possible  dignities 
of  the  second  noblest  profession  on  earth,  and  with  firm 
hand  knocked  that  night  a  lonely  lad  at  the  convent 
door  of  the  Dominicans.  Like  Paul,  he  conferred  not 
with  flesh  and  blood ;  and  he  could  not  trust  himself 
to  say  farewell. 

This  was  no  weakling's  flight  to  find  a  mere  shelter 
from  the  storm ;  but,  as  his  letters  prove,  it  was  the 
calm  act  of  a  resolute  and  strong  man  after  years  of 
thought  and  deliberation.  His  aim  was  of  the  loftiest 
kind.  To  gain  his  high  ideal  of  sanctity  he  must  cut 
loose  from  the  sinful  city  about  him.     It  was,  if  you 


MONK,    MASTER   AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  93 

study  it  aright,  a  solemn  act  of  sublime  self-surrender. 
Who  that  has  read  the  thrilling  life  of  that  other  young 
enthusiast  and  vastly  more  successful  man,  Martin  Lu- 
ther, can  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  wonderful  parallel- 
isms between  the  monk  of  Bologna  and  the  monk  of 
Erfurt  ?     The  likenesses  grow  as  you  think  of  them. 

On  the  evening  of  the  17th  of  August,  1505,  there 
knocked  at  the  gate  of  the  Augustinian  monastery  of 
Erfurt  a  young  man,  the  son  of  the  well-to-do,  intelli- 
gent and  ambitious  counsellor  of  Mansfield ;  a  3^oung 
man  distinguished  for  his  learning,  for  earnestness,  for 
deep  religious  feeling ;  a  strong  man,  sick  of  the  world, 
longing  after  holiness  and  peace  of  soul ;  a  man  of 
promise,  to  whom  the  ways  of  success  are  already  fast 
opening  to  stir  and  feed  his  ambition ;  and  that  youth, 
then  twenty-one  years  and  nine  months  old,  was  Martin 
Luther.  Like  him  in  aim,  in  heart,  in  dearest  studies, 
in  spiritual  intensity,  stole  in  that  other  youth  of 
twenty-two  years,  Girolamo  Savonarola,  destined  not 
indeed  to  the  victor's  place  like  Luther,  but  to  the 
humble  yet  indispensable  task  of  the  pioneer,  prepar- 
ing the  w^ay  for  the  reformation  of  the  faith.  Like 
Martin  Luther  in  his  entrance  into  the  monastic  re- 
treat, Savonarola  was  like  him  in  his  humble  appeal  to 
his  parents  for  forgiveness,  and  like  Luther  in  his  first 
experience  of  parental  anger  and  then  of  slowly-granted 
pardon,  and  finally  of  fullest  reconciliation.  I  know  noth- 
ing more  tender  and  thrilling  in  the  world's  many  epis- 
tles than  the  letter  which  Savonarola  wrote  to  his  fiither 
two  days  after  the  gates  of  the  old  convent  shut  him 
from  the  world  forever.  But  the  parallelisms  between 
the  monk  of  Erfurt  and  the  monk  of  Bologna  are  not 
yet  exhausted.     To  me  this  similarity  between  the  two 


94  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

great  men  has  come  home  with  such  striking  force  that 
I  cannot  avoid  making  it  prominent  for  you.  We  all 
know,  from  Merle  D'Aubigne,  from  Koestlin,  Croly  and 
others,  the  deep  humility  and  the  childlike  simplicity 
marking  Luther  when,  distinguished  scholar  though  he 
was,  he  acted  as  porter,  and  swept  the  church  and 
cleaned  the  house,  and,  singing,  begged  through  the 
streets  for  his  daily  bread,  and  did  cheerfully  the  most 
menial  tasks  of  a  junior  monk.  In  Savonarola  you  find 
the  same  humility,  the  same  simplicity,  the  same  sub- 
lime exaltation  above  the  fear  of  man,  the  power  of 
wealth,  above  pomp  and  pride ;  you  find  the  same  lav- 
ish charity  to  the  poor,  the  same  intense  passion  for 
learning,  the  same  long-continued  study.  These  two 
men  read  the  same  books.  Like  Luther  after  him, 
Savonarola  drank  in  the  thought  of  Aristotle,  the  ethics 
and  theology  of  Aquinas,  the  teaching  of  Augustine ; 
and  he  bent  all  the  great  power  of  his  mind  to  these 
pursuits  so  thoroughly  that  in  after  days  the  sermons 
of  Savonarola  were  full  of  the  results  of  his  monastic 
toil.  But  like  the  monk  who  shook  the  world,  his  one 
chief  book  was  the  Bible.  He  did  not  indeed  need  to 
search  it,  like  Luther,  for  peace  of  soul ;  that  he  had 
already  reached.  His  heart  had  long  found  rest  and 
consolation  in  the  simple  truths  and  the  peaceful  prom- 
ises of  the  gospel.  But  he  did  search  it  with  most  pas- 
sionate intensitv  to  discover  God's  will  for  his  children 
on  earth,  for  the  knowledge  of  the  true  life  for  man,  for 
highest  morals,  for  ever-nobler  thoughts  of  God,  for  the 
true  view  of  a  God-pleasing  holiness.  He  saw  that  all 
these  moral  beauties  and  glories  were  needed  in  his  time. 
He  felt  growing  up  in  him  the  spirit  of  the  old,  brave 
Hebrew  seers  and  of  John  the  Baptist ;  hence  he  lived 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  95 

chiefly  with  the  old  prophets  and  with  the  apostles  Paul 
and  James.  The  great  Hebrew  seers  were  beyond  all 
teachers  his  favorite  masters.  He  drank  in  their  spirit : 
the  rugged  majesty  and  dauntless  bravery  of  Hosea, 
the  scathing  exposure  of  royal  sins  from  Amos'  lips, 
the  bold  and  startling  imagery  of  Joel,  the  soul-stirring 
pictures  of  national  wickedness  drawn  by  Micah,  the 
living  figures,  the  overpowering  revelations  of  sin's  vile- 
ness,  given  by  Isaiah,  the  pathetic  pages  of  Jeremiah, — 
these  were  his  delight,  and  in  time  came  to  be  hidden 
deep  and  richly  in  his  heart.  The  awful  utterances 
of  these  great  men  of  God  burned  within  his  soul.  They 
kindled  his  moral  enthusiasm ;  they  iired  his  zeal  against 
all  ungodliness,  and  afterwards  reproduced  themselves 
so  appropriately  to  the  times  and  the  themes  he  dealt 
with  that  his  speech  became  like  an  inspired  message. 
To  the  Herods  of  his  day  he  seemed  as  an  old  prophet 
risen  from  the  dead. 

He  was  at  peace,  I  say,  within  his  own  soul ;  his  sal- 
vation he  was  convinced  was  by  faith  in  Christ  Jesus 
and  holiness  of  life — faith  inspired  of  grace,  of  which 
holiness  was  the  constant  and  the  necessary  manifesta- 
tion. But  he  was  in  agony  about  the  state  of  Italy. 
The  Bible,  he  felt,  gave  him  what  he  needed  to  con- 
vulse and  revolutionize  society.  The  Bible  pictures  of 
sin,  the  Bible  views  of  guilt,  the  Bible  denunciations  of 
God's  wrath, — these,  if  naught  else,  would  startle  the 
deep-slumbering  souls  of  his  guilty  and  careless  fellow 
men ;  and  the  Bible  voice  of  authority  was  loud  enough, 
bold  enough,  sublime  enough,  supreme  enough,  to  com- 
mand attention  from  even  the  highest  wrong-doers  in 
the  land,  whether  polluted  prince  or  the  more  polluted 
pope.     So  the  monk  read  the  Scriptures,  thought  over 


96  GIROLAMO   SAVONAROLA, 

them,  prayed  to  know  their  meaning.  For  six  long 
years  he  dwelt  alone  with  God  and  hearkened  con- 
stantly to  the  divine  voice,  and  he  grew  very  mighty 
in  the  truth  and  sweetly  strong  in  grace.  His  very 
face,  it  is  said,  shone  with  a  seer's  brightness ;  and  the 
name  of  Fra  Girolamo  grew  celebrated  throughout  the 
land  for  deep  learning,  far-reaching  influence,  prayerful- 
ness  and  devoted  piety.  Story  gathers  upon  story  about 
his  power  with  men,  as  he  talked  with  them  regarding 
their  soul's  salvation  :  many  were  turned  by  him  to  the 
Lord,  His  power  and  boldness  in  dealing  with  the  most 
daring  sins  was  certainly  remarkable.  Here  is  one  scene. 
It  is  on  shipboard.  The  boat  is  bound  from  Ferrara  to 
Mantua.  The  young,  meditative,  wasted  monk  sits 
apart  in  the  stern  of  the  boat ;  he  is  meditating  as 
usual  on  the  moral  riot  of  the  land.  The  heavens  seem 
dark  to  him  with  judgment;  God's  storm  must  soon 
burst  on  the  land.  While  he  is  thus  thinking,  down 
comes  one  of  those  sudden-brewing  and  sudden-bursting 
storms  known  in  Switzerland  and  Italy.  In  this  thun- 
der-storm Savonarola  sees,  as  did  the  old  stern  Micah, 
the  emblem  of  God's  anger.  The  boatmen  are  rude  and 
wicked  and  obscene ;  they  pour  out  their  rude  songs, 
their  blasphemies  and  filthy  jokes.  The  storm  in  the 
heavens  waxes  fiercer.  The  boatmen  grow  more  coarse 
and  foul  tongued.  The  storm  grows  wilder  still,  but 
the  storm  of  holy  anger  in  the  monk's  breast  is  the 
fiercest  of  all.  Up  rises  Savonarola  from  his  seat,  casts 
back  his  cloak,  commands  the  men  to  listen,  binds  them 
by  the  spell  of  his  flaming  eyes,  and  forth  he  rolls  in 
his  sweet  but  potent  Italian  one  of  the  most  startling 
passages  of  the  Hebrew  seers ;  then  comes  a  picture  of 
sin,  of  the  just  God  upon  his  throne,  and  of  the  lonely 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR    OF    FLORENCE.  97 

wicked  man  called  to  judgment  to  give  an  account  for 
his  idle  words.  More  and  more  vivid  flashes  the  light- 
ning, louder  and  more  appalling  come  the  thunder  peals. 
More  and  more  vivid  becomes  the  monk's  description  of 
guilt,  clearer  and  more  awful  his  words  of  condemna- 
tion, till  the  boatmen,  awed  and  overpowered,  sink  at 
his  feet  confessing  their  sins  and  pleading  for  his  pray- 
ers and  his  guidance.  It  was  a  reproduction  of  David 
and  Nathan,  and  was  prophetic  of  Savonarola's  preach- 
ing in  his  grandest  hours  and  of  his  power  with  men. 
And  now  the  day  comes  when  the  long  and  patient  prep- 
aration in  the  cloisters  of  Bolosrua  must  be  tried  in  the 
pulpits  of  gay  and  guilty  Florence. 

The  Master  of  Florence. 

In  1482  Ferrara,  to  which  Savonarola  had  once  more 
gone,  though  but  for  a  short  season,  was  threatened  by 
the  Venitians  with  war,  and  the  Dominican  monks  were 
ordered  to  leave  their  house  and  retire  to  the  monas- 
teries of  their  order  in  various  other  districts.  Among 
others  Savonarola  was  sent  to  the  magnificent  monastery 
of  San  Marco  in  Florence.  Savonarola  has  now  reached 
the  place  of  his  fame  and  of  his  fate. 

There  he  was  called  immediately  to  preach.  At  first 
he  was  a  complete  and  surprising  failure.  In  spite  of 
his  burning  zeal  and  his  acknowledged  sanctity ;  in  spite 
of  his  all-penetrative  insight  into  human  hearts  and  bold, 
convincing  denunciations  of  sin ;  in  spite  of  his  learn- 
ing, his  schoListic  attainments  and  his  biblical  lore ;  in 
spite  of  a  fine  form,  tall  and  slight,  full  of  grace  and 
strength  and  action ;  in  spite  of  a  face  striking  and  ex- 
pressive to  an  unusual  degree,  and  of  a  far-reaching 
voice,  flexible  and  pathetic, — his  first  series  of  Lenten 


98  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

sermons  in  the  great  church  of  San  Lorenzo  were  all 
lamentable  failures.  The  disappointment  was  bitter  and 
boundless.  From  thousands  his  audience  quickly  dwin- 
dled down  to  twenty-five.  His  career  as  a  preacher 
seemed  ended.  But  was  it?  No.  The  force  that  lay 
in  the  boy  to  choose  his  own  pleasures  and  pursuits, 
the  moral  strength  that  kept  the  young  man  pure  amidst 
all  the  seductions  of  a  royal  town,  the  intense  zeal  that 
made  the  student  of  the  monastery  pore  for  nights  and 
days  over  his  philosophy,  theology  and  his  Bible,  lived 
on  in  the  man  and  moved  him  mightily.  Disappointed, 
he  despaired  not.  He  retired  from  public  view  for  two 
more  years.  Voice  he  cultivated,  gestures  he  corrected, 
reading  and  elocution  he  studied,  style  of  address  he 
altered.  He  heard  the  piercing  cry  for  reform,  and  felt 
the  force  needful  for  that  sad  and  deadly  battle  was  his 
own.  God's  truth  burned  like  fierce  fire  within  him. 
He  believed  God  had  a  work  for  him  to  do.  He  knew 
he  had  a  message  for  his  age.  He  resolved  to  learn  how 
to  do  his  work  and  how  best  to  make  his  message  tell. 
He  vanishes  from  men's  sight.  Two  years  pass  away 
in  unbroken  silence,  but  intense,  passionate,  yet  well- 
directed  work.  Men  have  utterly  ceased  to  speak  of 
Savonarola,  when,  like  the  sun  dashing  through  clouds, 
he  flashes  out  the  light  of  his  flaming  message  sudden 
and  searching,  and  all  Brescia,  where  he  then  was, 
speedily  gathers  around  him,  waits  spell-bound  before 
him,  trembles  for  sin,  rushes,  as  he  closes,  in  tears  from 
the  church,  resolving  to  go  no  more  to  hear  that  awful 
prophet ;  but  on  the  next  day  they  all  regather,  and 
the  next  day  they  come,  and  every  day  they  crowd  the 
church  to  hear  this  Italian  John  the  Baptist. 

For  four  years  he  preached  in  Brescia  like  an  old 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR    OF    FLORENCE.  99 

prophet ;  his  sterling  genius,  his  sinless  character,  his 
elcA^ation  above  all  human  fear,  his  contempt  of  all 
human  reward,  his  resistless  enthusiasm,  and  his  man- 
ifest devotion  to  God,  supported  him  in  his  daring  de- 
nunciations of  sin,  whether  wrought  in  princely  halls 
or  in  pauper's  hovel.  He  was  master  of  the  situation. 
Brescia  cowered  and  trembled  as  if  God  had  come  to 
judgment.  Assuredly  it  was  small  wonder.  The  text- 
book of  the  preacher  was  the  Revelation  of  Saint  John. 
That  book,  full  of  the  righteous  wrath  of  God,  took  for 
Savonarola  an  almost  perfect  literality  in  his  applica- 
tions of  its  teaching  to  the  state  of  Brescia  and  of  Italy 
in  general. 

But  while  he  thus  thundered  the  terrors  of  the  Lord 
over  the  heads  of  his  sinful  countrymen,  he  was  growing 
in  a  deep-rooted  determination  to  scourge  iniquity  out 
of  the  highest  places  of  the  land  ;  and  at  the  same  time 
he  was  more  deeply  impressing  all  those  who  w^atched 
him  closely  with  the  conviction  that  here  was  a  man  of 
the  profoundest  thought,  of  wisest  counsel,  of  gravest 
authority  ;  a  man  of  commanding  powers ;  a  student  of 
vast  theological  attainments  ;  a  teacher  of  amazing  clear- 
ness and  unusual  subtlety  in  solving  the  deepest  ethical 
and  theological  difficulties.  But  Brescia  was  not  to  be 
the  scene  of  his  greatest  pulpit  victories.  Florence, 
which  was  then  the  literary  centre  of  the  world,  was 
in  sorest  need  of  him.  In  1490,  by  some,  to  us,  appa- 
rently accidental  arrangement,  the  one-time  disappointed 
and  disgraced  Lenten  preacher  was  sent  back  to  Flor- 
ence as  a  simple,  unpretending  gospel-reader.  He  crept 
into  the  convent  of  San  Marco,  unheralded,  unaccompa- 
nied, almost  exhausted.  Travelling  the  whole  distance 
on  foot  from  Brescia,  his   frame  worn  out  by  labors,  by 


100  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

fasting,  by  long-continued  study,  he  sank  down  upon 
the  way  almost  dead.  How  long  he  lay  upon  the  road 
cannot  be  told.  Later  legends  state  that  he  was  saved 
by  an  angel ;  but  such  falsities  always  gather  round 
such  a  life  in  such  a  time.  The  only  power  upholding 
and  rescuing  him  other  than  the  gracious,  guardian  hand 
of  the  God  of  providence  was  the  iron  will  of  Savon- 
arola himself,  and  that  one  great,  noble  and  holy  aim 
of  releasing  his  land  from  the  might  of  sin  and  the  des- 
potism of  usurpers  which  had  now  grown  into  an  exclu- 
sive and  absorbing  passion  with  him.  How  many  have 
found  in  God  and  in  their  own  deep,  holy  resolution  to 
persevere  in  their  unpromising,  yes  even  contemned, 
work,  but  work  which  thev  feel  to  be  needful  for  men 
and  given  of  God  to  them,  that  support  and  that  secret 
of  victory  which  have  seemed  to  the  surrounding  wit- 
nesses verily  miraculous  ! 

Quietly  through  the  gate  of  San  Gallo,  quietly 
through  the  streets  of  the  city,  quietly  to  the  postern 
of  San  Marco,  quietly  up  the  long  corridor,  quietly 
into  the  cold,  small  cell,  passed  Savonarola,  and  Flor- 
ence has  at  last  met  her  master  and  her  martyr !  How 
quietly  revolutions  are  oftentimes  born !  Yes,  the  rev- 
olution of  all  revolutions — in  a  quiet  night  in  a  quiet 
little  town  of  little  Syria !  Florence  and  her  duke  and 
her  gay  court  knew  not  that  the  revolutionary  and  the 
reformer  lay  down  that  night  within  San  Marco  and 
slept  the  deep  sleep  of  the  tired  man  and  trustful  child 
of  God. 

Nothing  creeps  down  upon  us  with  softer  foot  and 
lighter  tread  than  the  wind,  so  soon  to  swell  into  the 
furious  tempest  that  shall  fell  the  forest's  king  and 
strew  the  earth  with  the  proud  tower's  ruin,  and  the 


MONK,    MASTER   AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  101 

sea  with  wrecks,  and  the  gray  strand  with  ghastly 
corpses.  The  storm  is  brewing  for  the  court  of  the 
duke  and  the  pope.     They  reck  not. 

Then  Lorenzo  de  Medici,  the  magnificent,  was  lord 
of  Florence,  aiid  his  age  is  commonly  called  the  Augus- 
tan age  of  revived  Italian  literature.  "  The  tranquillity 
which  had  for  some  years"  (I  quote  from  Koscoe) 
"  reigned  in  Italy  had  introduced  into  that  country  an 
abundance,  a  luxury  and  a  refinement  almost  unexam- 
pled in  the  annals  of  mankind.  Instead  of  contending 
for  dominion  and  power,  the  sovereigns  and  native 
princes  of  that  happy  region  attempted  to  rival  each 
other  in  taste,  in  splendor  and  in  elegant  accomplish- 
ments ;  and  it  was  considered  as  essential  to  their 
grandeur  to  give  their  household  establishments  a  lit- 
erary character.  Hence  their  palaces  became  a  kind  of 
polite  academy  in  which  the  nobility  of  both  sexes 
found  a  constant  exercise  for  their  intellectual  talents. 
There  courage,  there  beauty  and  rank  did  not  hesitate 
to  associate  with  learning,  taste  and  wit.  In  this  re- 
spect the  court  of  Florence  was  pre-eminently  distin- 
guished." 

Yes,  Roscoe,  Florence  was  distinguished  for  all  this 
luxury  and  learning,  for  all  this  taste  and  wit,  but  also 
for  all  the  semi-disguised  paganism  of  that  age  "  of  fear- 
ful moral  retrogression,"  for  the  impure,  lascivious  revel, 
for  the  wanton  songs,  for  the  indecent  dances,  and  the 
indecorum  of  her  entertainments.  That  fifteenth  cen- 
tury was  one  of  the  most  perilous  ages  for  Christianity 
which  the  faith  of  the  gospel  has  yet  survived,  and 
Florence  was  the  very  centre  of  the  iniquity.  If  we 
are  to  consider  the  place  and  power  of  Savonarola  truly, 
we  must  look  at  the  age  of  his  activity  as  it  is  reflected 


102  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

in  the  two  great  centres — the  centre  of  the  literary  and 
the  centre  of  the  rehgious  worlds.  Florence  was  the 
centre  of  the  literary  world,  and  she  was  full  of  de- 
bauchery, extravagance  and  godlessness.  Here  society 
"  was  remarkably  glittering  and  surpassingly  corrupt — 
radiant  with  outward  splendor,  rotten  with  internal  de- 
cay." Her  palaces  were  full  of  a  beauty  almost  heav- 
venly,  yet  they  hid  passions  that  were  bestial.  Rome, 
the  centre  of  the  religious  world,  was  worse  than  Flor- 
ence. ''  Christendom,"  says  Farrar  of  this  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, "  had  practically  ceased  to  be  Christian ;  priests, 
turned  atheists,  made  an  open  scoff  of  the  religion  they 
professed;  the  pope  jested  with  his  secretary  on  the 
profitableness  to  them  of  the  fable  of  Christ."  Such  was 
the  state  of  the  Church  when  a  man  that  was  Knox- 
like  in  his  man-defying  boldness,  that  was  Luther-like  in 
his  power  over  the  masses,  that  was  Calvin-like  in  his 
submission  to  the  word  and  will  of  God — a  man  that 
was  stainless  as  Daniel  in  his  character  and  mighty  as 
John  the  Baptist  in  his  preaching  of  repentance — rose 
in  the  pulpit  of  San  Marco  to  preach  the  gospel  of  the 
Crucified  and  declare  to  all  the  counsel  of  the  holy  God, 
with  an  eloquence  unheard  of  among  that  order  of 
preachers.  And  the  Dominicans  are  remarkable  preach- 
ers. Never  have  I  seen  or  heard  anything  like  the 
preaching  of  one  passion-sermon  delivered  by  a  great 
Dominican  orator  in  the  Cathedral  of  Milan — fervid, 
forcible,  full  of  action  and  passion,  the  soul  of  the 
speaker  blazing  into  fire,  and  that  fire  running  like  a 
flame  through  his  audience — Gavazzi  in  his  wildest  pas- 
sion-moods was  very  calmness  to  the  fire  of  that  Do- 
minican. 

Savonarola  was   a  Dominican  preacher,  and   stands 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  103 

chief  among  the  Dominicans.  Speech  so  full  of  fire 
that  the  many  graces  of  it  were  lost,  it  surged  up  from 
the  depths  of  his  soul  like  a  curbed  sea  suddenly  loosed 
from  bands ;  it  came  leaping  forth  a  very  torrent  of  re- 
buke for  sin,  a  lava-stream  of  withering  denunciations 
of  vice,  a  thunder-peal,  an  awful  revelation  concerning 
the  coming  wrath  of  God.  He  preached  not  "  in  words 
only,  but  with  eyes,  hands,  features ;"  "  the  whole  man 
rendering,"  as  Myers  says,  "  every  hearer  forgetful  of 
all  but  the  awful  utterances  of  the  awful  preacher." 
"  His  sermons  address  the  fears,  the  hopes,  the  imag- 
inations, the  affections,  the  intelligence,  of  all  classes  of 
his  heai'ers."  The  great  metaphysical  student  plunges 
into  every  part  of  man  a  keen-edged  rapier  and  then 
causes  the  pierced,  transfixed  faculty  to  quiver  with 
the  thrusts  of  truth.  But  the  chief  characteristic  of  his 
eloquence  was  that  it  was  amazingly  biblical.  It  gained 
and  grew  in  old  Hebrew  majesty  till  it  reached  its  climax 
in  the  famous  Lenten  lectures  of  1496,  Avhich  Savonarola 
delivered  on  the  books  of  Amos  and  Zechariah. 

Savonarola  began  as  a  reader,  as  a  common  gospel 
reader,  in  the  small  hall  of  San  Marco ;  nobody  ex- 
pected anything,  and  at  first  his  audience  was  very  thin 
and  quite  listless.  In  a  few  days  the  company  swelled, 
and  all  waited  with  eagerness  the  arrival  of  the  entranc- 
ing yet  appalling  speaker.  In  the  beginning  of  the  third 
week  the  audience  crowded  that  hall,  and  the  friars  and 
pious  servants  pressed  forward  to  hear  the  burning 
words.  From  the  hall  they  were  driven  to  the  garden ; 
from  the  garden  to  the  great  chapel;  from  the  great 
chapel  to  the  large  refectory  and  reception-room  ;  thence 
to  the  vast  cathedral ;  and  in  that  cathedral  the  audi- 
ence swelled  and  still  swelled,  till  they  were  compelled 


104  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

to  seat  the  vast  building  round  and  round  like  a  huge 
amphitheatre,  and  still  there  was  not  room.  Men  clam- 
bered into  the  stalls  and  up  to  sit  upon  the  windows, 
and  clung  to  the  pillars  and  waited  outside ;  and  these 
audiences,  vast  as  they  were,  often  waited  patiently  for 
hours  to  hear  the  "  prophet-preacher,"  Florence  verily 
needed  a  preacher  of  righteousness,  and  she  had  found 
him  in  a  man  who  feared  only  God  and  who  listened 
for  his  message  alone.  And  not  Florence  only,  but  Pisa 
and  Leghorn  poured  their  living  tides  in  and  in,  and  the 
smaller  towns  and  sleepy  villages,  until  the  cathedral 
and  the  piazzas  around  groaned  beneath  the  thick- 
massed  multitudes.  The  monk's  denunciation  of  the 
sins  common  to  the  times  was  scathing  enough ;  but  the 
pride,  the  corruption,  the  greed  of  gold,  the  hypocrisy, 
the  infidelity  and  the  darker  and  deadlier  sins  of  the 
clergy,  these  it  was  that  stirred  all  the  fiery  indignation 
of  this  strong  and  saintly  soul.  The  thunders  of  his 
righteous  wrath  were  appalling  in  the  extreme.  The 
city  and  the  country  were  convulsed  by  this  one  man, 
and  his  one  single  force  was  truth, — God's  truth  fully 
told,  fearlessly  applied. 

"  The  people  are  met  to  pray 

Before  the  shrine, 
Where  day  and  night,  from  year  to  year. 

The  pale  lamps  shine, 
To  li^ht  the  dai'kness  of  a  Face 
That  bendeth  from  the  altar-place, 

Sad,  yet  divine. 

"  The  clouds  of  incense  rise, 

The  sweet  bell  tolls, 
Down  all  the  darkness  of  the  church 

A  music  rolls. 
And  stirs,  as  with  a  wind  from  heaven, 

The  gathered  souls. 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  105 

*'  But  when  the  passionate  voice 
Of  the  music  dies, 
And  even  the  echo,  faint  and  sweet. 

Hath  ceased  her  sighs. 
Another  voice,  more  solemn  and  grand, 
Is  heard  to  rise  ! 

"  Ah  !  well  fair  Florence  knows 

That  voice  of  doom  ; 
This  is  her  Prophet,  stern  and  sad. 

Whose  soul  doth  loom 
.So  dark  and  awful  from  its  place, 
That  they  who  dare  to  meet  his  face 

Pale  at  its  gloom. 

"  How  fair  and  sweet  on  the  hills 
Their  footsteps  glow 
Who  come  with  tidings  of  peace  and  love 

To  the  world  below  ! 
As  angels  of  light,  by  day  and  night 
They  come  and  go. 

"  But  those  whom  God  has  appointed 

Heralds  of  wrath. 
From  his  secret  place  of  thunder 

Come  by  a  darker  path  ; 
A  voice  of  doom,  a  brow  of  gloom, 

This  herald  hath. 

"  To  him  the  smiles  of  earth 

Are  little  worth, 
His  eyes  have  seen  the  lifted  sword 

Gleam  wild  in  the  north. 
And  he  spake  as  one  to  whom  is  given 
To  know  the  wrath  of  outraged  Heaven, 

And  to  pour  it  forth. 

"  Yet  are  there  softer  hours. 

When  his  voice  sinks  low, 
And  they  see,  as  it  were,  an  angel's  face ; 

So  sweet  the  glow 
With  which  he  prays  them  all  to  come 
To  the  arms  of  Christ,  who  is  our  home. 

And  loveth  so. 


106  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

"  '  I  have  longed  as  other  men 

To  be  at  rest, 
To  follow  the  sinking,  smiling  sun 

Down  the  shining  west, 
Or  to  take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  flee 

To  my  Saviour's  breast. 

"  '  Yet  might  I  go  to  him 

This  night  in  peace. 
How  could  I  sing  in  the  silver  dawn 

Of  that  sweet  release. 
Whilst  my  people  darkly  stand  without, 
And  lift  to  heaven  the  rebel  shout. 

That  will  not  cease? 

"  '  Oh  that  mine  eyes  were  fountains 

Of  flowing  tears, 
That  I  might  weep  through  the  sunless  hours 

Of  my  bitter  years  ; 
For  my  land  hath  filled  her  cup  of  sin. 

And  the  judgment  nears.' 

"  Then  all  the  people  trembled 

For  fear  of  God, 
As  if  they  saw  in  heaven  the  sign 

Of  his  lifted  rod, 
And  felt  the  truth  that,  a  little  while, 
And  instead  of  the  light  of  his  fatherly  smile 

His  wrath  should  be  shed  abroad." 

The  changes  which  that  preaching  wrought  in  Flor- 
ence were  sudden  and  wonderful.  They  are  the  boast 
of  Savonarola's  admirers ;  they  are  the  sullen  admis- 
sions of  his  foes.  Half  the  year  was  devoted  to  relig- 
ious services  ;  and  the  days  when  he  preached  the  streets 
were  silent,  because  deserted,  and  all  the  shops  were 
closed.  No  more  obscene  songs  were  heard,  but,  instead, 
low-chanted  psalms.  Vast  sums  were  paid  back  in  resti- 
tution of  old  debts  or  of  wrongful  gains.  The  dress  of 
men  became  sober,  and  of  women  quiet  and  modest. 
Many  members   of  the  highest  families,  many  distin- 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  107 

guished  for  rank  or  learningj  became  the  preacher's  dis- 
ciples ;  and  not  a  few  noble  ladies  gave  themselves  under 
his  direction  to  the  works  of  sweet  Christian  charity. 
The  frightful,  abominable  carnival  of  Florence  was  seen 
no  more.  Savonarola  was  now  really  the  master  of 
Florence,  and  the  day  came  quickly  when  he  was 
openly  raised  to  her  seat  of  rule  and  acknowledged  as 
her  prince. 

In  November,  1494,  the  sword  of  the  Lord,  long  fore- 
told by  Savonarola,  was  bared  and  brandished  in  the 
eyes  of  Florence.  Charles  the  Eighth,  whom  for  months 
Savonarola  had  declared  to  be  the  avenger  decreed  by 
God  and  appointed  to  waste  Italy  because  of  her  sins, 
made  his  victorious  way  to  the  walls  and  then  through 
the  gates  of  Florence.  Dictating  terms  too  hard.  King 
Charles  was  met  by  the  brave  magistrate,  Gino  Capponi, 
and  the  braver  monk,  Savonarola, — for  the  weak  Piero 
de  Medici,  then  reigning  prince  and  son  of  the  dead 
Lorenzo,  had  fled  in  sore  aifright.  Capponi  threatened 
to  sound  the  fearful  Florentine  tocsin.  Savonarola 
threatened  the  sorer  and  undying  vengeance  of  God 
against  the  king  who  was  merciless  in  his  triumph,  and 
pointed  the  awed  Charles  back  to  Nebuchadnezzar. 
Magistrate  and  monk  conquered  the  conqueror.  On 
the  26th  of  November  a  treaty  was  signed  between  the 
king  and  the  city,  in  accordance  with  which  the  tyran- 
nical Medici  were  banished  from  the  state,  and  fair  but 
long-fallen  Florence  had  restored  to  her  her  long-lost 
but  ever-loved  liberties.     But  where  shall  Florence 

"  Statesmen  for  her  council  get 

Who  know  the  seasons  when  to  take 
Occasion  by  the  hand,  and  make 
The  bounds  of  freedom  wider  yet "  ? 


108  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

Yes,  the  chief,  the  vital  question  was,  Who  should 
rule  ?  The  old  republican  forms  did  indeed  remain,  but 
the  great  tribunes  who  were  able  to  apply  them  were 
all  dead ;  and  the  grand,  imperial  spirit  of  the  old  Flor- 
entine magistrates  had  in  the  days  of  the  Medicean 
despotism  vanished  to  appear  no  more.  All  was  an- 
archy. Mean  factions  reigned.  The  streets  were  often 
red  with  sudden  fights.  The  sharp  cry  of  the  assas- 
sinated not  unfrequently  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night. 
Trade  was  ruined ;  shops  were  closed,  and  starving  me- 
chanics had  become  brigands.  Who  should  bring  order 
forth  out  of  this  chaos  ?  Who  could  grasp  the  reins  and 
guide  the  car  of  state  ?  Where  were  the  Soderinis,  the 
Capponis,  the  Valoris  ?  Represented  indeed  they  were, 
but  by  weak  and  contemptible  descendants.  All  eyes 
turned  to  one  man,  the  preacher-prince,  the  monk  of 
San  Marco.  He  was  really  the  chief  of  Florence.  He 
had  faced  the  proud  Lorenzo  when  all  men,  high  and 
low,  cowered  before  the  illustrious  but  iron-handed  des- 
pot. He  had  commanded  him  to  repent,  and  made  him 
know  a  higher  law  than  his  own  proud  will.  Had  he 
not  also  bearded  the  haughtier  French  victor  and  forced 
him,  albeit  at  the  head  of  his  flushed  legions,  to  yield 
obedience  to  the  law  of  truth  and  mercy  ?'  Had  he  not 
saved  the  blood  of  Florence  ?  Had  he  not  proved  his 
mastery  of  men  ?  Yes,  he  must  rule.  Not,  be  it  known 
to  all  and  ever  remembered,  of  his  own  ambitious  seek- 
ing and  plotting,  but  by  a  common  call  of  a  hunger- 
stricken  and  hopeless  population,  was  Savonarola  called 
to  authority,  yes,  commanded  to  reign.  Reluctantly  he 
obeyed.  He  feared  the  end  for  him  was  death ;  but  he 
stepped  into  the  breach.  The  monk  is  now  prince,  and 
his  pulpit  is  his  throne.     In  the  fear  of  God  he  began. 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  109 

The  first  meeting  of  state  he  summons  in  the  great 
cathedral,  for  the  new  republic  shall  be  founded  in  the 
fear  of  God  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  and  in  his  house  with 
prayer,  and  on  the  law  of  his  truth.  Ruler  and  people 
shall  first  be  Christian.  But  there  was  more  than  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  fifth-monarchy  men  and  the  emotion 
of  a  mere  prophet-preacher  in  Savonarola.  The  monk 
was  a  born  magistrate ;  and  this  man,  with  all  the 
native  endowments  of  a  ruler,  had  carefully  studied  in 
earlier  days  the  theory  of  government,  for  Thomas 
Aquinas,  his  old  master,  had  entered  deeply  into  the 
whole  question  of  rule  and  legislation,  and  with  his 
characteristic  cool  analysis  had  penetrated  to  the  very 
heart  of  the  political  question,  and  had  with  exhaustive 
fullness  stated  what  he  regarded  as  the  perfect  forms  of 
liberty.  Savonarola  was  the  student  of  Aquinas,  and 
had  mastered  all  his  teaching.  With  all  his  noble  aver- 
sion to  tyranny  our  preacher-prince  had  also  a  most 
wise  dread  of  the  rule  of  the  untaught  mob.  Under 
God  as  supreme,  Florence  was  to  be  a  Christian  re- 
public, but  a  republic  in  which  the  wisest,  the  purest 
and  most  matured  alone  should  rule.  The  first  and 
indispensable  requisite  of  the  state  was  that  it  should 
be  a  true  civitas  Dei,  a  city  of  God.  These  were  the 
four  great  rules  of  the  constitution  laid  down  for  Flor- 
ence by  her  new  chief:  first,  "Fear  God;"  second, 
"  Prefer  the  good  of  the  republic  to  thine  own ;"  third, 
"A  general  amnesty ;"  fourth,  "A  council  composed  like 
that  of  Israel,  with  Christ  as  the  head  of  the  nation." 
The  first  aim  of  the  monk-magistrate  was  to  relieve  the 
wants  of  the  poor ;  the  second  to  open  shops,  to  restore 
and  encourage  trade,  so  that  employment  might  be  given 
to  the  needy  and  money  might  circulate  once  more ;  third, 


110  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

to  lighten  taxes,  especially  those  pressing  hardest  on  the 
working  classes  and  those  levied  on  the  most  common 
articles  of  daily  life ;  fourth,  to  enforce  strict  justice 
regardless  of  men's  persons ;  fifth,  to  seek  in  all  things 
God's  glory  and  the  purity  of  private  and  public  life 
as  the  chief  end  of  their  state  life.  Savonarola  would 
make  Florence  such  a  city  as  earth  had  never  seen,  the 
light  of  the  wide  Christian  world,  a  model  to  Rome,  a 
new  Jerusalem.  He  plunged  into  politics  that  he  might 
purge  the  Augean  pit.  He  did  not  himself  grow  pol- 
luted like  the  most  who  sound  those  foul  and  slimy 
depths ;  but,  alas !  he  did,  as  he  feared,  draw  down 
upon  himself,  the  one  great  and  pure  man  of  his  day, 
ruin  and  death.  But  nobly  did  he  gird  himself  to 
achieve  his  noble  purpose.  Starting  from  the  principle 
that  Florence  should  be  a  Christian  commonwealth,  with 
Jesus  as  king  and  his  gospel  as  sovereign  law,  Savon- 
arola passed,  with  the  consent  of  the  great  council  held 
in  the  cathedral  and  in  the  presence  of  the  people,  the 
most  stringent  laws  for  the  thorous^h  and  immediate 
suppression  of  vice.  All  the  haunts  of  debauchery 
were  in  consequence  closed.  Gambling  in  all  forms 
was  forbidden  and  stopped.  Drunkenness  was  made 
impossible  by  the  first  prohibitory  liquor  law  I  have 
discovered  in  history.  The  gross  habits  and  indecen- 
cies of  the  old  Florentine  life  and  the  ruinous  extrav- 
agances of  dress  were  restrained.  Foul  pictures  and 
fouler  poems  were  burned.  The  abominable  statues 
once  disgracing  the  streets  were  removed ;  and  the 
filthiness  of  the  revived  paganism  of  the  magnificent 
Medici  hidden  forever.  It  was  in  truth  a  sublime  effort ; 
but  there  was  only  one  man  true  to  the  sublime  ideal, 
and  he  as  a  ruler  was  ruined  by  the  ecclesiastical  system 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR    OF    FLORENCE.  Ill 

which  had  bred  and  still  bound  him.  He  was  a  monk, 
and  he  was  in  his  pure,  self-denying  life  a  standing  re- 
buke to  Rome ;  and  monkery  and  Rome  destroyed  him 
— monkery,  for  the  ascetic  training  of  the  monk  led 
Savonarola  to  stretch  his  restrictions  of  civil  law  to  the 
point  of  tyrannical  interferences  with  private  liberty 
and  the  duties  of  the  family.  The  city  could  not  be 
made  a  convent,  and  such  a  convent  as  Savonarola 
would  have.     And  Rome  hunted  him  to  death. 

Actuated  himself  by  one  holy  wish  to  obey  God,  he 
would  force  all  men  to  live  as  he  did,  and  the  cord 
strained  too  tightly  at  last  snapped.  With  the  will  of 
Cromwell,  he  wanted  the  unerring  sagacity  of  that  great 
uncrowned  king.  Discontent  arose  among  the  dissolute 
nobles,  among  the  gay  women  and  the  proud  youth  of 
Florence.  They  grew  tired  of  the  monk.  They  plotted 
against  him  secretly  and  complained  openly.  They  ap- 
pealed to  Rome.  She  was  glad  of  the  opportunity ;  she 
had  wished,  watched  and  wrought  for  the  reformer's 
downfall.  Yes,  Rome  more  than  monkery  was  the  ruin 
of  Savonarola.  The  Vatican  was  wildly  wroth  with 
this  bold  man  who  spoke  clearly  out  to  the  common 
people  the  word  of  God ;  who  preached  not  the  one 
Church,  but  the  one  Christ  and  free  salvation — that 
"  triumph  of  the  cross "  so  dear  to  his  soul — and  taught 
that  all  sinners,  especially  clerical  sinners,  should  reap 
as  they  sowed,  and  the  wages  of  sin  must  be  death. 
Florence  under  Savonarola  was  to  Rome  under  the  in- 
famous, the  indescribably  vile,  the  everlastingly  con- 
temned Alexander  the  Sixth,  that  lustful  and  bloody 
Borgia  whose  name  is  the  abiding  shame  of  the  papacy, 
all  that  Goshen  in  light  was  to  Egypt  in  her  gloom. 
Savonarola  had  turned  God's  daylight  full  upon  Rome. 
Rome  in  her  foul  bestiality  writhed   in  angry  shame. 


112  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

Savonarola  and  the  tiara-crowned  Borgia  must  fight. 
The  prophet  of  Florence  and  the  pope  of  Rome  could 
not  exist  in  one  Church,  nay  more,  in  one  country. 
The  bloody  Borgia  feared  and  hated  the  monk.  Savon- 
arola could  not  abide  that  Borgia;  he  could  not  in  his 
own  stainless,  noble  purity  forget  that  the  private  life 
of  Roderigo  Borgia  was  a  disgrace  to  humanity,  was 
the  unutterable  scandal  of  the  Church  and  the  stum- 
bling-block of  countless  souls.  The  fiery  preacher  spoke 
out  clearly  and  loudly  against  the  simony,  the  rapacity, 
the  sensuality,  the  murders  of  the  pope.  He  told  the  in- 
iquities of  his  household,  of  his  brother  and  of  that  whole 
foul  and  blood-stained  family ;  from  the  pope  he  passed 
out  to  the  cardinals,  from  the  cardinals  to  the  clergy, 
and  with  resistless  hand  unveiled  in  the  sight  of  clearest 
day  and  of  a  terror-stricken  world  the  putridities  of  that 
papal  court  and  city.  Rome  became  for  the  prophet- 
preacher  Babylon,  and  her  diabolic  pope  was  branded 
as  antichrist.  On  went  this  terrific  war.  At  last  came 
one  terrible  sermon  from  the  prophet-prince  of  Florence, 
delivered  to  a  gathered  province  packed  inside  the  great 
cathedral,  made  vivid  with  awful  pictures  drawn  out  of 
the  Hebrew  seers.  Savonarola  had  set  forth  the  sins  of 
the  land,  and  in  his  sermon  stated  with  clearer  and  more 
scathing  language  than  even  Luther  dared  to  use  the 
utter  moral  degeneracy  of  the  clergy,  and  then  traced 
all  this  horrifying  evil  to  the  more  horrible  and  shame- 
less sins  of  the  papal  court,  and  then  closed  leaving  the 
pope  standing  forth  in  the  midst  as  the  very  chief  of 
sinners.  Rome  was  stirred  throughout  her  whole  ex- 
tent and  to  a  very  frenzy  of  revengeful  madness.  What 
shall  be  done  ?  said  pope  and  cardinals  in  one  breath. 
"  Make  him  a  cardinal,"  said  the  sneering  Caesar  Bor- 
gia;  and  the  whole   court  laughed  and  approved   the 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR    OF    FLORENCE.  113 

scheme.  Many  a  mouth  had  been  closed  in  that  way. 
They  mistook  their  man  this  time.  Down  came  in  hot 
haste  from  the  pope  one  Louis  de  Ferrara  to  offer  the 
uncompromising  enemy  of  all  unrighteousness,  God's 
simple-hearted,  fearless  servant,  the  bribe  that  was  only 
less  in  the  esteem  of  the  selfish  in  that  hour  than  the 
popedom  itself — the  archbishopric  of  Florence,  the  full- 
est favor  of  the  Roman  court  and  a  cardinal's  hat. 
Would  he  only  be  still  ?  Like  the  apostle  starting 
back  from  Simon  Magus  in  the  horror  and  holy  wrath 
of  an  indignant  soul  did  Savonarola  repulse  the  tempter. 
That  voice  of  temptation  made  a  fearful  recoil  in  the 
soul  of  our  hero.  With  all  his  tremendous  love  of,  and 
passion  for,  purity,  simplicity,  sanctity,  with  all  his  sub- 
lime enthusiasm  for  a  more  perfect  conformity  to  his 
Master,  with  all  his  glowing  hatred  of  the  selfish  and 
the  mean,  with  all  the  declarations  he  had  made  regard- 
ing his  aims  and  desires,  with  all  the  proofs  that  he  had 
given  to  men  of  his  elevation  above  the  base  and  the 
self-indulging,  that  papal  bribe,  that  temptation,  Avas 
more  than  he  could  bear,  and  he  confronted  the  papal 
seducer  as  Elijah  faced  Ahab  of  old.  Like  an  outburst 
of  Vesuvius  his  indignation  rolled  out,  hot,  scathing, 
resistless.  After  the  first  outburst  of  his  indignation 
he  eyed  for  some  seconds  Louis  de  Ferrara  till  the 
papal  messenger  actually  quailed  beneath  those  soul- 
searching  eyes.  Then  Savonarola  sternly  summoned 
the  tempter  to  appear  in  the  cathedral  the  next  day 
and  hear  before  the  world  his  answer  to  Rome.  The 
bells  ring  and  the  criers  tell  the  news  and  summon  the 
people  to  the  church  the  next  day.  The  people  gath- 
ered mass  on  mass.  Magnificent  subject  for  a  painter, 
that   place   and    preacher !     The    grand    old   cathedral 


114  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

packed  to  suffocation,  the  waiting,  wondering  province ; 
in  the  very  centre  of  the  scene,  full  before  the  pulpit, 
on  a  high  seat,  within  view  of  the  whole  vast  congre- 
gation, was  the  pope's  messenger  placed  like  Satan  at 
the  divine  bar;  there,  in  his  well-known  place,  stands 
the  wasted,  almost  ethereal,  prophet  of  Florence.  He 
bows  in  prayer.  He  rises.  His  fine,  noble  face  lights 
up  with  the  blaze  of  holy  indignation  as  he  looks  on 
Louis  the  tempter.  His  kindling  eyes  are  now  dilating 
and  contracting — they  seem  actually  flashing  like  light- 
ning. His  lips  open,  close.  His  hands  clench  together 
convulsively.  Twice  he  tries  to  speak  ;  the  words  choke 
him.  One  quick  glance  is  flung  to  heaven.  There  is 
one  quick  pressure  of  the  wasted  hands  upon  his  brow, 
and  out  rolls  the  torrent.  The  crime  of  Rome  is  made 
to  stand  out  in  horrible  relief  against  the  purity  of  the 
apostolate  ;  the  character  of  Christ  against  the  so-called 
vicegerent ;  the  sins  of  the  papacy  against  the  holiness 
and  devotion  of  the  early  Church.  Higher  and  higher 
rises  the  storm  of  holy  scorn  and  scathing  denunciation, 
till  all  culminates  in  one  concentrated  anathema :  "  Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan.  I  will  have  no  hat  but  the  mar- 
tyr's, reddened  with  mine  own  blood ;  no  seat  but  with 
my  Master.  Get  thee  gone  to  thy  master,  and  tempt 
me  no  more."  The  vast  audience  rose,  and,  amid  the 
hissing  and  the  scorn,  Louis  fled  from  out  the  church 
as  if  hunted  by  the  furies  with  their  snaky  thongs. 
Savonarola  gained  the  glory  he  sought,  won  the  hat  he 
craved ;  that  day  he  told  his  own  doom. 

The  Martyr. 
His  work  was  almost  done,  his  day  all  but  sped.    The 
night  dropped   sharp  and  sudden,  like  the  night  in  a 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR    OF    FLORENCE.  115 

tropic  land.  But  the  doom  came  not  immediately.  At 
first  the  Borgias  had  to  stay,  eager  though  they  were, 
their  bloody  hands,  for  over  their  own  heads  was  hang- 
ing the  sword  of  vengeance.  The  French  king  had 
crossed  the  Apennines,  was  in  Rome  herself.  Pope 
Alexander  was  hiding,  weak  and  terror-stricken,  in  San 
Angelo,  and  was  deserted  by  all  his  cardinals  save  two. 
There  were  angry  murmurs  and  a  threatening  of  a  gen- 
eral council  to  try  the  Belial  of  the  Vatican  for  his  in- 
famous crimes,  that  were  of  all  kinds  and  of  all  depths, 
and  to  degrade  this  foul  scoundrel  of  the  purple.  That 
storm  passed  and  left  the  Borgias  safe.  From  Home  first, 
then  from  Naples,  then  from  Italy,  went  the  French 
avenger.  The  released  pope  and  the  Medici  drew  a 
long  breath  of  safety  once  more.  Freed  from  fears  re- 
garding their  own  fate,  they  turned  their  thoughts  on 
vengeance,  and  prepared  the  nets  of  death  for  the  monk 
of  Florence.  The  makers  of  the  bloody  hat  begin  their 
task.  At  first,  with  soft  words  and  courteous  addresses, 
Savonarola  is  invited  to  Rome  to  give  account  of  his 
teachings  before  the  papal  court.  They  are  very  anx- 
ious to  know  his  grounds  of  dissatisfaction !  He  de- 
clines to  stand  at  that  bar.  Again  asked,  he  reminded 
them  of  Paul  refusing  to  go  to  Jerusalem  where  the 
conspirators  awaited  him,  and  told  them  he  knew  too 
well  of  the  keen,  ready  daggers  of  the  Borgias.  Once 
more  asked  and  assured  of  safety,  he  replied  that  "  safe- 
conducts"  from  the  Vatican  were  no  guarantees  of  safety. 
The  fourth  message  is  a  command  to  come  at  once ;  but 
the  prophet-preacher  hesitates  about  his  answer  not  a 
moment.  He  declines.  Savonarola  is  deposed  by  the 
pope  and  excommunicated.  He  replies  boldly,  There 
is  power  in  the  Church  to  depose  a  wicked  pope.     A 


110  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

wicked  pope  is  no  pope ;  his  excommunication  is  no 
excommunication  ;  his  briefs  are  of  no  authority  ;  they 
are  of  the  devil.  I  am  sent  of  God  to  preach,  and  I 
shall  preach  ;  I  must  preach,  even  if  I  have  to  contend 
against  the  world.  Brave  words !  they  remind  us  of 
Athanasius ;  brave  words!  they  anticipate  the  deathless 
declaration  of  Luther  before  the  diet  at  Worms ;  brave 
words  !  they  recall  the  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles 
himself,  "  Woe  is  me  if  I  preach  not  the  gospel."  Higher 
still  rises  the  eloquence  of  the  dauntless  monk  ;  his  vitu- 
perations grow  more  terrible ;  his  fulminations  against 
Rome  wax  brighter  and  more  blasting.  Rome  works 
with  deadly  craft.  The  bloody  hat  grows  clearer,  draws 
onward  to  the  martyr. 

In  the  spring  of  1496  the  pope  packs  a  council  of 
Dominicans  at  Rome,  who,  in  his  absence,  try  Savon- 
arola and  pronounce  their  foregone  conclusion,  guilty  of 
contumacy,  heresy,  schism,  rebellion  in  the  highest  de- 
gree, and  pronounce  the  sentence  of  death.  On  the 
7th  of  November  a  decree  is  passed  degrading  him 
from  all  offices,  and  another  is  appointed  to  his  place. 
Through  bribery,  the  influence  of  the  pope  and  the  old 
autocratic  party  of  the  Medici,  a  number  of  his  personal 
enemies  were  introduced  into  the  general  council  of 
Florence.  The  pope,  the  Medici,  the  dissolute  youth 
of  Florence,  who  had  chafed  against  the  strict  moralities 
of  the  monk,  are  now  united  together  in  one  league  of 
revenge  and  death.  The  spring  comes  around  again,  and 
with  it  the  fresh  bull  of  excommunication  from  the  pope. 
Through  that  whole  year,  however,  on  went  the  battle 
between  one  lone  man  from  whose  side  fear  and  bribes, 
craft,  treachery  and  the  power  of  the  Church  were  grad- 
ually stealing  all  his  allies,  and  that  furious   court  of 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  117 

Rome,  in  league  with  the  old  despots  of  the  city  and 
envious  monks  and  godless  men  and  graceless  women. 
Still  the  one  man,  hero  of  God,  stands  firm,  and  instead 
of  closing  his  ministry  he  preaches  and  administers  the 
sacraments  in  spite  of  the  pope  and  his  repeated  ex- 
communications. The  year  of  1498  comes ;  and  the 
hat,  not  of  the  cardinal  but  of  the  confessor,  will  soon 
be  fitted  on.  Then  it  was  that  Savonarola  anticipated 
Luther ;  for,  turning  from  the  Church  to  Christendom, 
he  indicted  the  pope  before  the  Christian  conscience 
and  the  Christian  world  to  answer  for  his  personal 
crimes  and  his  official  sins.  To  the  emperor  of  Ger- 
many, to  the  king  of  France,  to  the  king  and  queen  of 
Spain,  to  the  king  of  England,  to  the  king  of  Hungary, 
Savonarola  writes,  as  John  Huss  and  Wycliffe  wrote 
before.  One  of  these  letters  was  intercepted  by  the 
duke  of  Milan  and  was  immediately  forwarded  to  Rome, 
where,  after  long  and  anxious  consideration,  a  plot  was 
concocted  on  the  suggestion  of  a  traitorous  Florentine 
to  entrap  Savonarola  into  a  trial  of  his  true  position  and 
of  his  power  by  ''  the  ordeal  of  fire."  He  was  chal- 
lenged to  this  trial.  He  did  not  accept  the  challenge, 
but  in  a  moment  of  excitement  his  friends  consented 
for  him,  and  he  allowed  himself,  through  his  over-gen- 
erous chivalry,  to  be  bound  by  their  action.  The  day 
was  appointed,  the  multitude  gathered  together.  The. 
excitement  was  intense,  the  anticipation  most  feverish ; 
but  when  everything  was  ready  for  the  trial  the  rain 
descended,  drenched  the  wood,  quenched  the  flames, 
and  the  ordeal  became  an  impossibility.  Rome  by  her 
emissaries,  the  Medici  through  their  tools,  immediately 
stepped  in,  wrought  quickly  and  successfully  on  the 
superstition   of  the   mob,  detached   them  from   Savon- 


118  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

arola,  had  him  suddenly  arrested,  tried,  repeatedly  tor- 
tured until  the  man  was  maddened  and  his  brain  reeled. 
He  was  condemned  to  death  by  fire  on  the  ground  of 
some  wild  utterances  made  while  racked  with  the  pain 
caused  by  their  fiendish  tortures.  In  all  the  history  of 
Rome's  torturing  nothing  more  diabolical  is  known  than 
the  treatment  of  Savonarola.  The  racking  of  this  noble, 
self-denying  man  and  the  slow  fire  that  burned  Patrick 
Hamilton  may  be  placed  side  by  side.  Now  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  man  is  nigh,  not  to  a  prince's  seat  in  the 
church  militant,  but  to  the  martyr's  throne  in  the  church 
triumphant.  The  bloody  hat  shall  be  given  to-morrow. 
It  is  the  evening  of  the  22d  of  May,  1498  ;  the  doomed 
man  is  in  the  cold,  guarded  cell,  with  him  is  his  warder; 
but  look,  the  death-marked  victim  has  laid  his  manly 
head  on  the  warder's  lap,  and  he  sleeps  like  a  little  child. 
As  they  watched  the  sainted  Argyle  slumbering  peace- 
fully as  an  infant  in  the  mother's  arms  and  smiling  as 
he  slept,  so  Nicolini  watched  Savonarola,  and  as  he 
gazes  down  he  sees  the  thin  face  gleam,  the  wasted  form 
thrill  with  some  strange  emotion  and  a  heavenly  smile 
gather  around  the  pale  lips.  The  man's  spirit  is  already 
entering  into  glory. 

"  I  knelt  down 
And  saw  his  face.     0  God,  my  God,  this  night 
And  every  night  I  bless  thee  for  that  look 
He  wore  in  sleep  !     The  look  of  one  to  whom 
After  a  hopeless  night  had  risen  a  Sun, 
Too  wonderful  and  sweet  for  waking  eyes. 
He  lay  asleep,  forgiven  and  at  rest. 
Ah  !  the  closed  eyes  were  not  too  darkly  veiled 
For  me  to  read  the  secret  of  their  light, 
And  the  pale  lips  betrayed  it  in  a  smile 
Which  said  the  soul  was  joying  within  the  veil. 
With  something  like  a  tear  upon  his  cheek, 
And  something  like  a  child's  surprise  and  joy 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  119 

At  unexpected  sifjht  of  home  and  friends, 
He  lay  asleep.     Dear  in  the  sic^ht  of  God 
The  death  of  ail  his  saints  ! — Was  this  the  look 
Which  angels  saw  on  the  great  Prophet's  face, 
Lying  in  death — alone — upon  the  Mount, 
After  sight  in  wide,  sweet  vision  of  that  Rest 
Prepared  for  Israel ;  and  drawn  at  the  last 
So  close  to  the  forgiving  heart  of  God, 
Men  said  he  died  of  that  divine  caress? 
Such  peace  at  the  last,  O  God,  thou  givest 
As  only  broken  hearts  can  taste  or  dream  of!" 

It  is  morning  now,  and  the  three  gibbets  are  ready. 
Savonarola  is  led  out  between  his  two  faithful  friends, 
Silvestro  and  Dominic ;  they  are  parted  from  him, 
chained  and  fired  first.  Savonarola  must  behold  their 
fate  and  watch  for  his  own.  Out  now  steps  the  bishop 
of  Vaison  :  "  Girolamo  Savonarola,  I  separate  you  from 
the  church  militant  and  the  church  triumphant."  "  Not 
from  the  church  triumphant ;  that  is  beyond  thy  power." 
Then  calm,  firm,  at  peace  with  himself,  with  the  world 
and  God,  forgiving  his  enemies,  he  walked  forward  to 
the  stake,  was  bound,  watched  them  light  the  pile, 
bowed  his  head  and  prayed,  commended  his  trustful 
spirit  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  died.  The  martyr  wore 
his  crown. 

"  They  brought  him  forth  to  die 
In  the  face  of  the  sun  ; 
They  took  his  sacred  robes  away 

One  by  one ; 
Whilst  the  city  gazed,  he  stood  amazed, 
As  a  man  undone. 

"  The  lips  that  were  bathed  in  fire 

Are  silent  and  pale  •, 
The  marks  of  tempest  and  agony, 

And  of  hope  that  doth  fail. 
Are  on  the  brow  that  was  so  high — 
It  faced  God's  thunders  in  the  sky, 

And  could  not  quail. 


120  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

"  Has  he  missed  the  cup  of  joy, 

Whose  rich  wine  jjlows 
With  heavenly  radiance,  poured  forth 

For  the  lips  of  those 
Who  dare  to  face  a  martyr's  death, 

A  martyr's  gathered  woes? 

"  Is  there  no  cup  for  him 

But  the  cup  of  agony? 
No  ecstasy  of  faith  and  prayer, 

No  parted  sky  ? 
Yet,  steadfastly  he  standeth  there, 
Unaided  in  his  last  despair. 

And  dares  to  die. 

"  Within  the  chambers  dark 

Of  his  rapt  soul 
Strange  scones  are  passing  fitfully. 

Strange  voices  roll ; 
He  lives  again  the  last  dark  days. 

Whilst  the  bell  doth  toll. 

"  He  hears  once  more  the  witness 

Of  the  accusing  band  : 
*  Thy  words  have  been  bold  against  the  men 

That  rule  in  the  land  ; 
Yea,  and  the  Church  of  God,  amazed, 
Has  heard  thy  voice  in  thunder  raised 

To  blast  her  hand  !' 

"  They  said  he  bore  it  well — 
The  torture  dread  ; 
They  racked  his  bi-oken  frame  again 

From  foot  to  head. 
Till  the  quivering  lips  denied  the  truth — 
He  knew  not  what  he  said  ! 

"  '  When  the  blood-red  mists  had  cleared 

From  my  reeling  brain. 
And  the  pale  daylight  that  had  been  lost 

Crept  back  again, 
I  looked  on  the  white  robe  of  my  soul 

And  saw  its  deadlv  stain. 


MONK,    MASTER   AND    MARTYR   OF    FLORENCE.  121 

"  '  How  awfully  that  stain 

Did  j2;row  and  gloom, 
Even  whilst  I  hastened  to  speak  the  words 

That  sealed  my  doom, 
Denying  the  false  denial,  wrung 
From  lips  to  which  the  cold  sweat  clung, 

In  the  torture-room. 

"  '  And  now  they  bid  me  yield 

This  weary  breath  ; 
I,  who  have  lost  my  Saviour's  smile. 

And  shipwrecked  faith, 
Am  still  allowed  to  die  for  him, 
In  my  poor  raiment,  soiled  and  dim — 

A  martyrs  sacred  death. 

"  '  Last  night  I  saw  God's  hosts 
On  the  moonlight  ride. 
And  as  they  passed  each  martyr  drew 

His  stainless  robe  aside, 
Lest  I  should  seek  to  touch  the  hem 
That  floated  wide. 

"  '  Theij  died  for  the  love  of  Christ 

By  fire  and  sword, 
And  he  himself  stood  by  to  cheer 

With  smile  and  word  ; 
/  die,  alone,  for  him  to-day, 

My  lost,  lost  Lord  !' 

"  Within  the  chambers  dark 

Of  his  rapt  soul 
Such  thoughts  were  passing  drearily 

Whilst  the  bell  did  toll. 
And  sunny  Florence  smiled  to  see 
Her  noblest  son,  in  agony, 

Draw  near  the  goal. 

"  He  was  aware  of  a  voice 

That  cried  aloud  ; 
'  We  blot  thy  name  this  day,'  it  said, 

'  From  the  Church  of  God  ; 
0  homeless  soul,  the  thunders  roll 

Along  thy  downward  road  !' 


122  GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA, 

"  But  even  as  it  spake, 

Through  all  the  place 
A  murmur  ran,  for  a  nameless  change 

Was  on  the  martyr's  face, 
As  if  a  golden  hope,  that  slept 
Deep  in  his  soul,  had  waked  and  leapt 

To  meet  a  coming  grace. 

"A  glorious  gleam  of  heaven 

Lighted  his  eye : 
'  Ye  may  blot  my  name  from  the  Church  on  earth  ; 

But  the  Church  of  the  sky, 
Christ's  radiant  Bride,  is  opening  wide 

The  Gates  of  Victory. 

"  'And  I,  a  man  despised, 

Shall  enter  there 
Amongst  the  priests  of  the  House  of  God, 

Clean  and  fair. 
The  clouds  are  broken  overhead  ; 
The  smile  of  Christ's  own  lips  is  shed 

On  my  despair.' 

"  No  golden  dawn  that  glitters 
On  the  eastern  sea, 
No  burning  glories  of  the  west 

Which  transient  be, 
Can  image  how  that  light  broke  forth, 
0  blessed  martyr,  on  thee  ! 

"  He  stood  transfigured  there, 

In  the  smile  of  God, 
Not  noting  the  fear  and  wrath  that  shook 

The  cruel  crowd. 
Not  knowing  how  they  set  him  free. 
To  stand  with  Christ  in  ecstasy, 

Where  the  angels  sang  aloud." 

Ye  Christian  men  and  women,  have  we  not  found  in- 
deed a  gem  of  purest  ray  and  rarest  worth  amid  the 
rubbish  of  the  Dominican  convent  ?  Has  not  verily  one 
good  man  come  out  of  that  Nazareth  of  monkery  ?  Not 
a  perfect  man  indeed,  but  one  whose  faults  and  evils 


MONK,    MASTER    AND    MARTYR    OF    FLORENCE.  123 

were  bred  of  the  day  in  which  he  lived,  and  still  more, 
of  the  noblest  aims  and  pursuits  and  longings ;  not  per- 
fect indeed,  but  worthy  certainly  to  take  his  place  in 
the  front  circle  of  that  crowd  of  the  royal  dead  by 
whom  I  would  have  you  engird  yourselves.  Round 
about  their  children  and  their  youth  the  old  Greeks 
gathered  their  most  exquisite  statues  and  their  finest 
forms,  that  the  young,  feasting  their  eyes  ever  on  beauty, 
symmetry  and  strength,  might  themselves  grow  beauti- 
ful, symmetric  and  strong.  Not  with  cold,  dead  statues 
would  I  encompass  you,  but  with  the  living  spirits  of 
the  holy,  kingly  dead ;  for  ennobling  inspirations  are 
breathed  into  young  ardent  souls  by  these  royal  ones 
of  God,  and  they  most  mightily  do  move  us  to  be  their 
followers  upward  from  the  cross  to  the  crown.  Girol- 
amo  Savonarola,  son  of  Ferrara  and  martyr  of  Florence, 
is  worthy  of  a  place  with  Huss  and  Wyclifi'e,  with  Wes- 
sel  and  Patrick  Hamilton,  ay,  with  Luther  and  Calvin 
and  Knox,  for  the  hard  toil  of  the  pioneer,  shaking  the 
faith  of  Europe  in  the  necessary  sanctity  of  the  pope, 
teaching  the  mind  of  Europe  that  appeal  lay  righteously 
from  the  Church  to  Christendom,  forcing  the  consciences 
of  Europe  to  face  the  law  of  God  rather  than  the  law 
of  the  Church,  and  compelling  earnest  men  to  try  the 
Church  by  the  word  of  God — that  hard  toil  was  Savon- 
arola's. Leader  of  a  forlorn  hope,  it  was  his  death 
breached  the  walls  of  the  Vatican  !  Ye  true  men,  yes, 
you  young  men,  think  of  his  early  piety  and  youthful 
consecration ;  think  of  his  honest  living  up  to  the  full- 
ness of  his  knowledge ;  think  of  his  thirst  for  the  pure 
waters  of  the  holy  word ;  think  of  his  writing  the  mes- 
sage of  his  Master  so  deeply  in  his  heart  that  he,  we 
are  told,  could  have  reproduced  the  Bible  had  it  been 


124  GIROLAMO   SAVONAROLA. 

lost;  think  of  his  self-forgetting  devotion  to  the  cause 
of  righteousness  in  an  age  all  godless  and  in  a  Church 
rotten  to  the  very  core ;  think  of  his  enthusiastic  devo- 
tion to  all  apparent  duty,  of  his  fearless  prosecution,  in 
face  of  danger  and  death,  of  God's  hardest  work  ;  think 
of  that  intense  perseverance  that  conquered  all  early 
defects,  of  the  perpetual  industry  that,  relying  not  on 
vast  inherent  powers,  gathered  to  the  preaching  of  the 
gospel  all  the  knowledge  open  to  him  in  his  day ;  think 
of  that  noble  spirit  of  self-surrender  that  gladly  laid  all 
his  wonderful  abilities,  magnetic  influences  and  majestic 
strength  at  the  feet  of  Christ ;  think  of  that  absolute, 
blameless  moral  character  that  places  him  in  a  holy 
brotherhood  with  Joseph  the  chaste  and  Daniel  the  pure 
and  James  the  just ;  think  of  these  things,  and  then 
remember  that  not  in  the  gray  light  of  a  misty  morning 
you  are  looking  like  Savonarola  Christward,  and  through 
the  blinding  influences  of  monkery  and  Romanism,  but 
in  the  sunlight  of  the  midday  and  through  the  clear 
skies  of  the  gospel  you  face  the  unclouded  glory  of  the 
incarnate  God ;  and  let  it  consequently  be  your  struggle 
to  make  this  your  stronger,  clearer,  fuller,  happier  light 
appear  in  brighter,  nobler,  holier  deeds.  Fight  and  fight 
well,  and  to  life's  end,  the  good  fight;  but  fight  not  in 
your  own  strength,  fight  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord ; 
quit  you  like  men ;  be  strong  in  the  Lord  and  in  the 
power  of  his  might;  trust,  pray  and  toil,  and  ye  too 
shall  then  be  more  than  conquerors  through  him  that 
loveth  you. 


THE  INTOLERABLE  YOKE. 


"Oh,  that  deceit  should  dwell 
In  such  a  gorgeous  palace !" 

'Think'st  thou  there  is  no  tyranny  but  that 
Of  blood  and  chains?     The  despotism  of  vice — 
The  weakness  and  the  wickedness  of  luxury — 
The  negligence — the  apathy — the  evils 
Of  sensual  sloth — produce  ten  thousand  tyrants, 
Whose  delegated  cruelty  surpasses 
The  worst  acts  of  one  energetic  master," 


AUTHOEITIES  COI^SULTED 


The  Lives  of  the  Keformers ;  the  Church  Histories  of  Mosheim, 
Milman,  Neander,  Killen  and  others ;  Dollinger,  Janus,  Gladstone, 
Hefele  and  the  various  "Old  Catholic"  articles;  Lives  of  the  Popes  ; 
the  Histories  of  the  Reforming  Councils,  e.  g..,  Pisa  and  Constance ; 
Church,  Palmer,  Maitland,  Gregory,  Oxford  Tracts,  Wiseman,  Manning, 
Faber ;  Duruy ;  Jameson,  Gregorovius,  Farrar,  Roscoe,  Ranke ;  The 
Dark  Ages  ;  The  Renaissance  ;  Buckle  ;  Draper ;  Hallam's  Middle  Ages  ; 
Guizot ;  Bryce  ;  Comte  ;  Montalembert ;  Alison  ;  Lecky  ;  Robertson  ; 
Symonds ;  Hardwick  :  various  articles  by  Carlyle,  Emerson  and  others  ; 
the  monographs  in  cyclopaedias  and  in  several  revievFS. 


THE  INTOLERABLE  YOKE. 


"  A  rOKE  WHICH  NEITHER  OUR  FATHERS  NOR  WE  WERE  ABLE  TO  BEAR." 

—  Acts  XV.  10. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  yoke,  the  iron  yoke  which  is 
to  be  broken  by  reason  of  the  anointing.  We  have  been 
gathering  around  us  those  men  who  were,  if  not  the 
breakers  of  that  yoke,  the  pioneers  of  the  emancipa- 
tion. Beside  the  earnest  Christian  men  of  the  Church 
who  accepted  as  a  divine  work  this  great  labor  and 
agony  of  liberty,  there  were  many  others,  who  should 
not  be  wholly  forgotten,  working  with  them,  working 
for  them.  There  were  patriots  and  politicians ;  there 
were  noble  statesmen  and  all  the  base  schemers  of  the 
times ;  there  were  earnest  students,  and  there  were 
keen-tongued  satirists.  Perchance  the  latter  were  not 
among  the  least  of  the  co-workers  with  the  great  re- 
formers, not  their  weakest  helpers  among  the  popula- 
tions of  northern  Europe. 

It  is  a  good  thing  at  times  to  answer  a  fool  according 
to  his  folly.  A  hearty  laugh  will  occasionally  convince, 
where  a  logical  argument  might  fail.  Irony,  as  we  know 
from  the  scriptural  instance  of  Elijah,  and  keen-cutting 
sarcasm,  as  we  find  it  in  the  epistles  of  Paul,  have  been 
more  than  once  employed  in  the  service  of  Christ  and 
human  reformation.  The  humor  of  John  Wycliffe,  the 
bluff  joking  of  Hugh  Latimer,  the  dry  caustic  wit  of 
John  Knox,  and  the  raillery  of  Luther  and  Zvvingli,  are 


128  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

balanced  by  the  many  satires  and  lampoons  of  Erasmus 
and  his  school,  by  the  songs  and  ballads  of  David  Lind- 
say, and  the  mock-plays  and  somewhat  rude  and  ribald 
farces  in  which  James  of  Scotland  delighted.  There 
was  a  deep  meaning,  however,  in  all  this  laughter  and 
humor.  There  was  a  deep  bitterness  of  soul  in  it  too. 
There  glowed  beneath  its  flame  and  sparkle  a  strong  fire 
of  honest  indignation.  The  meaning  of  it  was  serious, 
and  worthy  of  earnest,  able  men ;  it  w^as  intended  to 
reveal  to  the  people  the  state  of  the  corrupt,  fallen 
papal  Church  in  the  middle  ages.  That  bitterness  was 
felt  by  men  into  whose  souls  the  corroding  iron  of 
priestly  oppression  had  entered  deep  and  was  there 
rankling  and  agonizing ;  bitterness  caused  by  the  un- 
bearable despotism  of  the  now  degraded,  once  noble. 
Church  of  Augustine  and  Jerome.  That  fiery  indignation 
blazed  forth  as  the  sharp-eyed  men  of  the  world  and 
the  earnest,  musing  moralists  contemplated  the  whited 
sepulchres  of  papal  Rome.  We  must  study  the  state 
of  the  Church  in  the  middle  ages  if  we  would  really 
know  for  ourselves  what  the  iron  yoke  of  Rome  was — 
the  intolerable  yoke,  broken  in  the  Reformation.  We 
must  walk  up  and  down  in  the  Roman  world  of  Leo 
the  Tenth  and  his  great  predecessors  on  the  Tiber  and 
at  Avignon,  looking  out  with  the  eyes  of  the  reformers 
and  the  satirists,  if  w^e  are  to  see  for  ourselves  the 
necessity  of  the  great  revolt,  the  justification  of  the 
Reformation.  Let  us  look  then  calmly  but  critically 
and  closely  at  the  mediaeval  Church. 

As  in  human  life  we  mark  four  great  stages,  child- 
hood, youth,  manhood  and  old  age,  so  in  nations  there 
are  the  periods  of  rise  and  growth,  of  glory  and  decay ; 
and  as  with  the  single  nation,  so  with  the  mass  of  peo- 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  129 

pies,  the  great  struggling  world  of  business,  thought, 
politics  and  religion. 

The  second  period  of  man  and  of  nations  corresponds 
to  that  period  of  growth  in  the  history  of  Europe — may 
I  not  say  of  the  world  ? — called  the  Middle  Ages.  This 
name  has,  by  general  consent,  been  applied  to  the  cen- 
turies running  between  classic  antiquity  and  the  move- 
ments of  modern  times.  Like  the  difficulty  always  felt 
in  exactly  deciding  when  childhood  passes  into  youth 
is  that  trouble  felt  by  historians  regarding  the  passage 
of  classic  days  into  the  middle  ages,  and  again  regard- 
ing their  end  in  the  opening  of  our  modern  history. 
Roughly  stated,  however,  the  extremes  are  respectively 
the  fall  of  the  Western  Empire,  in  the  year  476,  and 
Luther's  first  open  conflict  with  Rome,  October  31, 1517. 
Like  youth  itself  these  ages  of  Europe's  growth  were 
full  of  a  strong  throbbing  life ;  boisterous  indeed,  but 
hopeful  withal ;  full  of  the  most  generous  impulses  and 
noble  endeavorings,  though  fiery  with  fiercest  passions 
and  stained  with  many  a  blood-curdling  crime.  In  these 
centuries  what  is  somewhat  vaguely  called  modern 
civilization  started  into  life  with  the  change  of  the  bar- 
barian conquerors  of  Rome  into  the  ordered  nations  of 
Europe,  into  moral  life  and  religious  thought.  Then 
stirred  first  the  motions  of  that  life  which  has  de- 
veloped and  become  matured  in  our  own  era,  which  has 
largely  changed  and  will  yet  more  change  the  face  of 
the  entire  earth  ;  for  in  these  middle  ages  we  meet  the 
victorious  Charlemagne  and  his  imperialism,  Moham- 
medanism and  its  heroic  frenzy ;  in  them  rose,  culmi- 
nated and  died  chivalry;  in  them  began  the  feudal 
ordering  of  society,  the  crusades,  the  aristocracy  of 
Europe,  the  monastic  system  and  scholasticism,  the  free 


130  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

towns,  the  burgher-classes,  the  rush  of  the  Northmen, 
and  the  holy  Roman  empire ;  and  with  all  these  are 
inseparably  connected  the  liberty  and  the  life,  the 
Church  and  State  of  modern  Europe  as  we  now  see 
them.  In  those  ages  likewise  began  real  commercial 
and  naval  life ;  the  second  day  of  classical  learning  and 
the  new  day  of  letters. 

But  from  all  these  tempting  themes  I  must  turn  away. 
Interesting  all  of  them  and  instructive ;  they  are  not, 
however,  our  present  subject.  Our  path  to-night  is  not 
over  the  secular  but  over  the  sacred,  or  rather  the  ec- 
clesiastical, highways  of  those  days.  From  the  states 
of  the  middle  ages  we  must  turn  to  the  Church.  The 
investigation  of  the  state  of  the  Church  during  those 
nine  or  ten  centuries  is  more  than  historically  interest- 
ing ;  it  is  essential  to  the  justification  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  the  victorious  maintenance  of  our  own  position 
and  opinions  in  relation  to  the  Church  of  the  Vatican. 
This  matter  is  indissolubly  bound  up  with  the  often- 
misunderstood  nature,  and  the  latterly-denied  necessity, 
of  the  Reformation ;  is  bound  up  with  the  question  of 
the  righteousness  of  a  separation  from  the  Church  of 
Rome ;  bound  up  with  the  consequent  defence  of  the 
reformers,  our  fathers'  hatred  of  the  papacy,  our  own 
continued  Protestantism,  and  with  our  modern  battle 
against  our  ultramontane  assailants,  against  the  Oxford 
schoolmen,  against  Matthew  Arnold,  against  persistent 
defamers  of  the  reformers  and  the  many  present  apol- 
ogists for  Rome. 

Again,  the  earnest  study  of  the  dark  ages  is  highly 
advisable  in  our  day,  when  a  few  deceivers  and  too 
many  dupes  are  demanding  and  laboring  for  a  revival  of 
medisevalism,  first  in  worship  and  then  in  faith.     The 


THE  CHURCH  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES.        131 

closer  inyestigation  of  this  period  is  intensely  interest- 
ing to  US,  hearing  the  voices  from  the  Vatican  proclaim- 
ing the  pope's  infollibility,  Rome's  absolute  right  to 
control  education,  science,  politics  and  the  world,  and 
the  propriety  of  Rome's  maintaining  intact  her  canon 
laws ;  for  this  study  proves  that  each  new  enormity  of 
Rome  is  only  the  natural  and  necessary  outgrowth  of 
the  ungodliness,  the  unscripturality,  the  half-hidden 
paganism  of  that  Church  whose  boast,  "  Always  the 
same,"  is  true  absolutely  if  confined  to  the  wrong,  and 
shows  how  easily  the  corrupted  apostolic  Church,  the 
papal  Church  of  Gregory,  passed  into  what  the  Dol- 
linger  school  terms  the  Church  of  1870. 

Manifestly  it  were  impossible  to  give  even  a  survey 
of  the  Church  history  of  those  ages.  I  must  select 
some  period  in  it ;  and  of  even  that  portion  I  can  give 
only  a  very  hasty  and  partial  sketch.  The  authorities 
I  have  already  mentioned  and  from  time  to  time  may 
quote  will  guide  to  the  various  sources  of  information 
any  who  may  be  desirous  of  more  perfect  knowledge. 
The  section  selected  by  me  is  that  period  called  by  Vol- 
taire "  The  Ages  of  the  Popes,"  which  extends  from  the 
coming  to  Rome  of  Hildebrand,  afterwards  known  as  the 
greatest  of  the  Gregories,  to  the  pontificate  of  Leo  the 
Tenth.  It  will  thus  be  evident  to  all  students  of  history 
that  I  select  the  glory-period  of  the  papacy,  the  time 
when  no  external  foe  interfered  with  the  prosecution  of 
her  proper  work,  had  she  known  it;  when  Europe 
actually  crouched  at  the  feet  of  the  Church ;  when 
kings  stood  bareheaded  and  barefooted  in  penance  before 
the  papal  gates ;  when  emperors  were  the  equerries  of  the 
pontiffs ;  when  the  lawyers  and  leaders  of  the  Church 
had  perfected    her  legal   and    parochial    systems,  and 


132  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

energetic  monks  had  carried  the  ecclesiastical  rule  home 
to  hearths  and  hearts  which  had  never  bowed  to  the 
haughtiest  C?esar  of  imperial  Rome. 

"  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them."  Neither  soul 
nor  Church  dare  question  either  the  Lawgiver  or  his  law. 
Now,  when  all  was  for  the  Church  and  nothing  was 
against  her,  what  did  she  ?  What  was  the  outcome  of 
her  work  ?  Christ's  Church  should  be  the  educator  of 
men,  the  almoner  of  God's  bounty,  the  mistress  of 
morals  and  the  mother  of  godliness,  and  the  humble 
administrator  of  Christ-made  laws.  Place  the  Church 
of  the  middle  ages  at  the  bar.  Let  her  give  an  account 
of  her  stewardship. 

I.  What  did  the  Church  of  the  middle  ages  in 
the  day  of  her  fullest  strength,  as  the  educator  of  the 
world  ? 

With  unequalled  opportunities,  with  many  powers 
promising  her  success,  what  did  she  in  lifting  men  and 
women  out  of  superstition  and  ignorance,  and  in  in- 
structing them  in  human  and  divine  truth,  in  faith  and 
unto  godliness  ?  What  did  she  do  for  the  cultivation 
of  man's  mind  and  the  spread  of  gospel  truth  ? 

Observe,  the  question  is  not.  Did  she  at  all  civilize 
and  elevate  ?  The  very  existence  of  a  Christian  Church, 
in  her  very  worst  possible  state,  must  somewhat  civil- 
ize ;  and  the  bare  presence  of  the  Church  in  those  ages 
suffices  to  explain  all  the  miserable  advance — and  it  was 
most  miserable — that  an  honest  searcher  can  discover. 
Nor  is  the  question.  Did  any  schools  and  universities 
spring  up,  and  did  some  scholars  here  and  there  appear  ? 
Nor  again  is  the  question.  Had  the  Church  in  those 
days  any  thinkers  and  writers  in  her  ranks  ?  But  the 
question  is,  Did  the  mediaeval  Church,  charged  with  the 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  133 

duty  of  education,  professedly  acknowledging  her  obli- 
gations in  this  department,  and  entrusted  notoriously 
and  in  clearest  deeds,  by  pious  donors,  with  enormous 
sums  to  perform  this  great  task,  address  herself  vigor- 
ously to  the  education  of  her  members  and  the  masses 
of  the  people  as  a  sacred  responsibility,  rather  than  to 
temporal  aggrandizement  ?  Did  the  Church  impart  to 
the  nations  of  Europe  secular  and  religious  instruction, 
the  best  then  possible,  and  one  at  all  commensurate  with 
her  ability  ?  The  histories  of  those  days  harmoniously 
answer  no,  in  direct  opposition  to  Dr.  Maitland's  book 
and  Canon  Gregory's  lectures  in  St.  Paul's.  The  proofs 
are  countless  that  the  mediaeval  Church,  with  all  her 
resources,  in  her  full  strength  and  unchallenged  su- 
premacy, educated  neither  the  heads  nor  the  hearts  of 
her  people.  Let  it  be  remembered  how  she  started.  The 
Church  of  Christ,  with  the  volume  of  Revelation,  with 
men  for  teachers  like  Polycarp  who  had  sat  at  the 
apostles'  feet,  and  with  Christ's  promise  of  the  Spirit's 
presence  and  teaching  in  the  honest  study  and  faithful 
exposition  of  God's  truth.  Then  in  addition,  as  the 
slightest  study  of  the  opening  three  hundred  years  of 
her  history  will  show,  the  Church  had  gained,  and  nobly 
gained,  the  intellectual  riches  of  the  east  and  west;  for, 
as  Gibbon  states,  she  became  heir  to  the  best  treasures 
of  antiquity,  the  guardian  of  all  sacred  and  true  things 
in  the  empire's  fall.  Moreover,  when  the  magnificent 
Hildebrand  ascended  the  papal  throne  in  1073,  that  tri- 
umphant day  when  the  papacy  stood  higher  than  the 
kings  of  the  earth,  the  day  of  Canossa,  the  parochial 
system  had  so  extended  that  a  priest  and  a  monastery 
with  professedly  a  school  attached  were  to  be  found 
in  each   district  of  the  Church's  wide  and   submissive 


134  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

territories.  What,  I  ask,  was  then  the  state  of  educa- 
tion and  doctrinal  knowledge  ?  So  low,  so  utterly  want- 
ing, that  some  impartial  historians  affirm  that  this  period 
was  the  inky  midnight  of  those  dark  days,  calling  it 
"  the  palpable  gloom."  The  clergy  were  as  a  rule  un- 
educated idlers  and  had  become  clerical  mountebanks, 
amusing  the  people  with  so-called  religious  shows.  The 
people  actually  grovelled  in  superstition  and  ignorance. 
"  For  centuries  it  was  rare  for  a  layman,  of  whatever 
rank,  to  know  how  to  sign  his  name."  "A  few  signa- 
tures to  deeds,"  says  Hallam,  "  begin  to  appear  in  the 
fourteenth  century."  As  to  the  clergy,  we  are  told  that 
not  one  Spanish  priest  in  a  thousand  could  even  write 
an  ordinary  letter  of  salutation ;  that  in  Italy  most  of 
the  beneficed  clergy  could  not  even  read,  and  that  in 
England  many  monks  and  priests  understood  not  the 
ordinary  prayers,  daily  repeated  by  rote,  and  that  in 
Germany  the  only  competent  teachers  were  a  few  monks 
of  St.  Benedict.  Whether  you  turn  to  Mosheim,  Hal- 
lam, Ranke,  Milner,  Milman  and  Guericke  on  the  Prot- 
estant side,  or  to  Lingard,  Palmer,  Maitland,  Manning 
and  Newman  on  the  Papal  side,  the  account  of  clerical 
ignorance  is  substantially  the  same.  There  can  be  no 
two  opinions  on  the  point.  When  Church  council  after 
council  at  Rome  acknowledged  this  degradation,  and 
when  the  great  reforming  councils  found  it  necessary  to 
legislate  concerning  the  general  ignorance  of  the  clergy, 
and  when  we  know  that  the  great  satirists  found  an  un- 
failing fountain  of  fun  here,  it  is  surely  impossible  to 
question  the  facts.  But  it  may  be  said  that  the  state 
of  the  clergy  was  only  the  result  of  the  general  ignor- 
ance, only  the  effect  of  that  complete  and  continued 
mental    stagnation    in    the    preceding   centuries   which 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  135 

caused  Cave  to  call  them  the  Age  of  Iron,  and  Barrenness 
the  Age  of  Lead.  Why  should  we  be  so  surprised  and 
shocked  at  the  deadness  of  the  Church  and  the  semi- 
barbarism  of  the  clergy,  when  all  around  was  death,  and 
semi-barbarism  reigned  ? 

It  is  said  that  the  average  intelligence  of  the  clergy 
is  only  as  the  average  intelligence  of  their  age.  That 
statement  may,  perhaps,  be  too  often  historically  true, 
but  it  is  not  always  nor  necessarily  true ;  and  when  it 
is  a  fact,  the  fault  lies  at  the  door  of  the  Church  that 
permits  it  and  the  clergy  who  neglect  their  many  op- 
portunities of  study  and  superior  cultivation.  The 
ignorance  and  superstition  of  the  Church  teachers  in  the 
middle  ages  were  not  the  result  of  the  general  ignor- 
ance, but  that  widespread  semi-barbarism  was  the  direct 
product  of  the  clerical  neglect  of  learning,  and  especially 
of  theology  and  God's  word.  There  had  been  the 
schools  of  Charlemagne.  Why  had  they  not  been  fos- 
tered ?  Who  let  them  die  ?  Mohammedanism  had  its 
letters,  why  not  Christianity  ?  In  the  monasteries  men 
had  time,  leisure  and  the  old  theology  :  why  did  they 
not  think,  and  thinking  teach  ?  Somewhat  more  care- 
ful investigation  will  show  that  this  dreadful  ignorance, 
which  Milman  calls  "the  total  barrenness  of  mind, 
the  most  unbroken  slumber  of  human  thought,"  had 
arisen,  First,  from  the  way  the  priesthood  of  the  Church 
and  her  various  brotherhoods  were  supplied.  The  duty 
of  the  Church  was  then,  just  as  ever,  to  select  her  best 
sons  for  her  work ;  and  then  she  could  have  commanded 
them.  Instead,  however,  of  the  best  and  noblest  being 
dedicated  to  the  Church,  two  classes,  utterly  unfit,  filled 
and  furnished  her  teaching  ranks  :  serfs  who  wanted 
freedom,  and  the  younger  sons  of   noble  families  who 


136  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

wanted  neither  letters,  moral  cultivation  nor  divine 
knowledge,  but  ease,  wealth,  power,  dignities  and  the 
closest  possible  approach  to  the  ecclesiastical  throne. 

"  In  the  country  parts,"  says  Wimpheling,  quoted  by 
D'Aubigne,  "  the  preachers  were  chosen  from  among 
wretched  creatures,  some  of  whom  had  originally  been 
brought  up  as  beggars,  others  of  whom  had  been  cooks, 
musicians,  game-keepers  and  even  worse."  And  who 
has  read  Savonarola  and  the  many  Romish  chronicles, 
the  songs,  the  lampoons  and  the  satires  of  those  days 
and  does  not  know  that  the  illegitimate  sons  of  bishops 
and  popes  and  the  needy  sons  of  strong  nobles  were 
then  again  thrust  into  the  priest's  office  for  a  morsel  of 
bread,  and  that  these  illiterates,  even  when  in  the  cler- 
ical ranks,  never  as  a  rule  sought  after  knowledge,  gave 
themselves  to  study,  nor  cultivated  in  any  way  their 
minds? 

Second.  Ignorance  arose  from  the  cleiical  and  mo- 
nastic neglect  of  those  very  schools  which  had  been 
originally  attached  to  churches,  abbeys  and  monasteries. 
These  schools  were  neither  few  nor  unimportant.  So 
continued  indeed  became  this  neglect  that  the  schools 
fell  into  ruins ;  and  so  engrossed  grew  even  the  Bene- 
dictine monks,  at  one  time  earnest  teachers  of  secular  and 
sacred  truth,  in  the  amassing  of  wealth  and  the  increas- 
ing of  their  power,  that  decree  after  decree  came  forth 
from  papal  councils  for  the  restoration  of  these  schools 
and  the  renewal  of  monastic  teaching.  But  bribery  and 
corruption  prevented  anything  ever  being  effectually 
done ;  the  hands  of  popes  and  cardinals  were  not  clean, 
and  the  reformatory  efforts  were,  therefore,  vain  and  ill 
sustained. 

Third.  Ignorance  is  traceable  again  to  the  action  of 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  137 

the  Roman  pontiffs  themselves,  who  then  as  now  would 
allow  nothing  to  be  taught,  even  in  the  existent  schools 
and  by  the  few  zealous  teachers  and  thinkers,  contrary 
to  their  doctrines  and  to  their  designs  of  supremacy. 

Fourth.  Ignorance  was  due  to  the  deliberate  and 
continued  cultivation,  in  this  period,  of  popular  super- 
stitions and  general  ignorance  by  the  priesthood,  whose 
members  strove  in  this  way  more  completely  to  subju- 
gate the  people  and  hold  them  more  firmly  and  easily 
in  their  bitter  bondage.  A  degraded  people  suit  a  des- 
potic and  demoralized  priesthood.  Spanish  priests  would 
be  tolerated  only  in  polluted,  prostrate  Spain.  So  no- 
torious is  this  fact  that  two  new  orders,  that  of  the 
Spanish  Dominic  and  of  the  Italian  Francis,  arose  in 
the  thirteenth  century  to  meet  this  very  necessity  of 
popular  teaching  and  preaching,  and  their  members 
specially  addressed  themselves  to  the  w^ork  abandoned 
by  the  priests  and  the  older  orders ;  yea,  and  opposed 
by  them.  Fierce  were  the  fights  between  the  old  men 
and  the  new  men  of  the  monasteries. 

Fifth.  Ignorance  flowed  largely  and  swiftly  from  the 
abandonment  of  public  preaching  on  the  part  of  the 
regular  local  clergy.  Pope  Gregory,  as  is  stated  in 
Bower's  "  Lives  of  the  Popes,"  wrote  thus  to  the  Bishop 
of  Liege  in  J 274:  "You  do  not  even  say  the  prayers 
which  every  priest  is  bound  daily  to  say ;  nor  do  you 
understand  your  office,  being  quite  illiterate ;  nor  do 
you  ever  preach."  And  we  know  that  in  Scotland,  even 
so  late  as  the  time  of  Hamilton,  Wishart  and  Knox, 
leading  clergy  were  not  able  to  preach ;  some  of  them 
not  even  able  to  read,  repeating  from  memory  the 
prayers  of  the  day. 

Who  has  ever  disproved  the  statement  given  in  his 

10 


138  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

"Paradise,"  canto  xxix,   by  Dante,   that   noble-souled 
witness  in  the  earliest  hours  of  the  uprising  revolt  ? — 

"  The  book  of  God 
Is  forced  to  yield  to  man's  authority  ; 
Or  from  its  straightness  warped.   .  .  . 

E'en  they  whose  office  is 
To  preach  the  gospel  let  the  gospel  sleep, 
And  pass  their  own  inventions  off  instead  ; — 
The  sheep  meanwhile,  poor  witless  ones,  return 
From  pastures  fed  Avith  wind  ;  and  what  avails 
For  their  excuse,  they  do  not  see  their  harm. 
Christ  said  not  to  his  first  conventicle 
Go  forth  and  preach  imposture  to  the  world, 
But  gave  them  truth  to  build  on  ;  and  the  sound 
AVas  mighty  on  their  lips,  nor  needed  they. 
Beside  the  gospel,  other  spear  or  shield 
To  aid  them  in  their  warfare  for  the  faith  ; 
The  preacher  now  provides  himself  with  store 
Of  jests  and  gibes,  and  so  there  be  no  lack 
Of  laughter,  while  he  vents  them,  his  big  cowl 
Distends,  and  he  has  won  the  meed  he  sought. 
Could  but  the  vulgar  catch  a  glimpse  the  while 
Of  that  dark  bird  which  nestles  in  his  hood. 
They  scarce  would  wait  to  hear  the  blessing  said." 

Palmer,  surely  a  reliable  witness  when  his  testimony 
is  against  Rome,  says,  ''  In  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth 
centuries  archbishops  and  bishops  were  engaged  in  wars, 
crusades,  hunting  and  hawking,  not  in  spiritual  aflliirs  ; 
they  and  the  clergy  were  still  ignorant ;  they  neglected 
preaching,  and  the  mendicant  friars,  by  permission  of  the 
popes,  half  superseded  them  in  their  offices."  What 
these  same  mendicant  friars  were,  John  Wycliife  and  his 
scholar  Chaucer  have  helped  us  to  understand.  The 
neglect  of  preaching  and  of  appeal  to  the  Scriptures 
of  God  as  the  source  of  true  preaching,  as  the  final 
authority,  as  the  fountain  of  truth — an  appeal  which 
always  necessitates  thought,  which  advances  education, 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  139 

and  which  highly  cultivates  the  minds  of  all  men,  yes, 
of  those  who  may  not  have  the  advantages  of  books 
and  schools — ended,  as  may  be  well  fancied,  in  veritable 
semi-barbarism.  The  means  of  instruction  being  thus 
neglected,  the  evidences  of  ignorance  among  the  people 
became  awful  and  universal ;  "  Utter  forgetfulness  of 
God's  word,  extreme  ignorance,"  to  use  the  words  of 
Mosheim  regarding  these  years,  "  of  everything  pre- 
tending to  religion,  and  the  most  abject  submission  to 
the  tyranny  of  a  dissolute  and  illiterate  priesthood." 
Now,  from  that  condition  arose  a  superstitious  habit  of 
mind  which  received  the  grossest  lies  as  truth,  believed 
the  most  extravagant  of  Mse  wonders  positively  blas- 
phemous in  their  form,  adored  all  kinds  of  relics,  sought 
for  pardon  and  heaven  through  voluntary  penances,  and 
gave  divine  honors  to  madmen  like  Leuthold,  and  mad 
women  like  Hildegarde  of  Bingen.  Only  think  of  the 
wild  fanaticisms  manifested  by  those  bands  of  flagel- 
lants, walking  long  pilgrimages  and  furiously  beating 
each  other  till  the  blood  from  their  many  wounds  dyed 
the  very  roads  ;  only  think  of  processions  of  relics  con- 
ducted by  the  monks  that  they  might  gather  larger 
donations  from  the  people,  and  everywhere  welcomed  by 
their  dupes ;  only  think  of  abbots  and  of  bishops  travel- 
ling through  the  villages,  the  cities  and  countries  of 
Europe,  carrying  in  solemn  procession  the  carcasses  of 
dead  men  and  fabled  relics  and  manufactured  objects  of 
devotion  for  the  rude  people  to  see  and  the  ignorant 
masses  to  handle  and  adore ;  only  think  of  the  indul- 
gence-shambles, where  enormous  sums  were  paid  to  the 
ecclesiastical  peddlers  of  churchly  grace ;  only  think  of 
the  degrading  exhibitions  constantly  attending  the  great 
religious  festivals  of  those  days,  and  you  will  no  longer 


140  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

wonder  that  the  darkness,  deep  as  the  Egyptian  gloom, 
brooded  upon  the  people,  and  that  verily  they  sat  in 
the  shadow  of  death. 

Small  wonder  is  it  that  in  these  centuries  took  place 
the  change  of  scriptural  truth  which  Newman  calls  "the 
development  of  the  latent  truths  of  Christianity,"  but 
which  we  believe  to  be  the  flagrant  soul-endangering, 
God-insulting  corruption  of  the  truth  and  perversion  of 
the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints.  If  the  denial  of 
human  depravity  and  original  sin,  if  baptismal  regener- 
ation and  necessary  sacramental  efficacy,  if  the  limita- 
tion of  the  Church  to  the  prelatic  communion  united  to 
the  popes  and  bound  together  by  the  sacraments,  if  the 
supremacy  of  the  pope  and  the  sacrificial  character  of 
the  priesthood,  if  the  idolatry  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  the 
adoration  of  saints  and  angels  as  secondary  intercessors, 
if  the  transubstantiation  of  bread  and  wine  into  the 
body,  blood,  soul  and  perfect  personality  of  Immanuel, 
if  the  worship  of  the  elevated  host,  if  the  duty  of  con- 
fession to  priests  for  absolution,  if  the  way  to  heaven 
by  means  of  pagan  rites  of  worship  Christianized  and 
the  legal  works  of  a  revived  Judaism,  and  by  papal 
indulgences  abolishing  sins,  instead  of  by  faith  in  the 
perfect  work  of  Christ, — if  all  these  doctrines,  which 
were  legalized  between  the  days  of  Gregory  the  Seventh 
and  Boniface  the  Eighth,  be  the  lawful  and  needful  ex- 
pansion of  scriptural  truth,  then  indeed  medigeval  the- 
ology is  the  very  perfection  of  wisdom.  But  if  God's 
word  be  true,  if  there  be  but  one  Name,  and  one  perfect 
Sacrifice,  and  one  Way  of  life,  and  if  all  that  believe  in 
Christ  that  Way  and  Lamb  of  God  are  justified  from  all 
things,  then  medisevalism  in  doctrine  is  the  deadliest 
of  lies,  the  most  blasphemous  travesty  of  truth. 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  141 

Dark  are  those  ages  indeed ;  in  them  was  developed 
really  the  whole  theology  that  was  finally  formulated  at 
the  Council  of  Trent.  Not  a  few  have  wondered  at  that 
mediaeval  perversion  of  scriptural  teaching ;  but  to  a 
keen-sighted  mind  it  is  but  a  logical  and  necessary  de- 
velopment of  false  doctrines  too  easily  introduced  and 
very  early  observable  in  the  Church  of  Rome.  Admit 
but  once  the  idea  of  a  real  priesthood,  that  the  essence 
of  the  Church  is  in  her  organization,  that  the  clergy 
constitute  the  Church,  that  all  Church  power  vests  in 
them,  that  the  priestly  office  inalienably  enjoys  posses- 
sion of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  the  Church,  as  Church,  is 
the  infallible  expositor  of  truth,  and  that  she  is  the 
source  and  in  her  sacraments  the  giver  of  grace,  and 
there  is  no  resting-place  for  a  thorough  and  honest 
logician  but  the  dark  depths  of  the  ultramontane  Aver- 
nus.  By  the  adoption  of  these  errors  did  the  mediaeval 
Church  lose,  as  Dorner  puts  it,  the  power  of  illumina- 
tion, reconciliation,  sanctification  and  universality. 

No  doubt  here  and  there  did  start  up  in  the  papal 
communion  a  few  very  noble  men.  Who  would  forget 
Anselm,  believing  that  he  might  know ;  who  would  for- 
get Abelard,  seeking  to  know  that  he  might  believe ; 
who  would  forget  Thomas  Aquinas  and  the  other  great 
schoolmen,  but  too  often  and  foolishly  despised  ?  These 
men,  however,  were  like  lone  stars  in  a  dark  sky.  They 
shine  indeed  with  their  own  light,  but  they  are  supreme- 
ly brilliant  because  all  was  gloom  around.  They  did 
scarce  anything  to  dissipate  that  general  night ;  though 
it  must  be  confessed  that  they  did  start  questions  that 
prepared  for  and  hurried  on  the  Reformation.  They 
were  useless  to  the  mass,  among  whom  reigned  stupidity, 
superstitions,  false  faith,  to  the  eternal  shame  of  that 


142  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

powerful,  wealthy,  widely-spread  Church  of  the  middle 
ages  which  suffered  the  people  to  perish  for  utter  lack 
of  knowledge. 

II.  What  did  the  mediaeval  Church,  as  God's  almoner, 
in  the  fields  of  charity  ? 

Here  as  everywhere  in  those  mediaeval  days  the 
gloom  is  least  upon  the  threshold  when  the  Church  is 
nighest  to  apostolic  times  ;  and  also  least  upon  the  close 
of  the  period  when  happily  she  is  approaching  the  days 
of  the  Reformation.  At  first  the  Church  was  mindful 
of  the  poor,  for  then  she  was  herself  poor ;  with  her 
wealth  came  her  selfishness  ;  ay,  her  wickedness.  The 
care  which  the  apostolic  Church  exercised  towards  the 
poor  passed,  after  the  rise  of  monachism,  very  largely 
into  the  hands  of  brotherhoods  and  sisterhoods.  The 
houses  of  religious  orders  became  the  hospitals  for  the 
sick,  the  asylums  for  the  persecuted,  and  the  store- 
houses for  the  poor,  in  some  cases  the  libraries  of  the 
learned.  These  facts  are  undeniable,  and  I  rejoice  to 
state  them.  Abundant  proofs  will  be  found  in  Kings- 
ley's  '•  Hermits,"  Montalembert's  "  Monks  of  the  West," 
in  the  fifth  chapter  of  Comte's  "  Positive  Philosophy," 
in  Dollinger's  "  First  Age  of  the  Church,"  in  Church's 
"  Lectures"  and  in  Lecky's  "  History  of  European  Mor- 
als," with  similar  works.  Suffice  it  now  to  say  that  no 
one  can  read  the  early  histories  of  the  humble  houses 
that  sprang  first  from  the  eremite's  cell,  no  one  can  study 
the  foundations  of  the  countless  monastic  orders,  no  one 
can  follow  the  footsteps  of  Eligius  of  Noyon,  of  Augus- 
tine of  Canterbury,  of  Boniface  of  Germany,  of  Adal- 
bert the  martyr,  or  of  those  whom  we  know  more 
familiarly,  Patrick,  Columba,  Kentigern,  Cuthbert  and 
Ninian  and  all  the  2;reat  monks  of  the  west,  without 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  143 

acknowledging  with  Manning  and  Newman  that  once  the 
only  hospitals  were  in  the  religious  houses,  without  ac- 
knowledging with  Milman  that  once  the  church  and 
the  monastery  were  the  chief  refuges  of  the  oppressed, 
and  with  Chastel,  with  Comte  and  Lecky  that  the 
broadest  charity  was  there  for  a  time  nobly  exemplified. 

But  these  distinctions,  which  are  the  boast  of  our  com- 
mon Christianity,  were  only  passing,  alas,  too  quickly- 
passing,  glories;  glories  which  actually  disappeared  too 
often  with  the  very  founders  of  the  orders,  and  ulti- 
mately passed  away  from  all  monastic  institutions.  The 
irresistible  tendency  of  that  monachism  which  degen- 
erate Christianity  took  from  the  vestal  virgins  of  pagan 
Rome,  from  the  strange  anchorites  of  Egypt  and  the 
Essenes  of  Syria,  was  alwaj^s  in  the  end  to  destroy  the 
good  effects  of  the  labors  and  characters  of  the  truly 
noble  but  sadly-misguided  men  who  originated  and 
established  the  various  orders. 

The  evil  leaven  always  corrupted  the  good.  Mona- 
chism has  ever  had  and  must  ever  have  the  same  round. 
At  first  the  earnest  enthusiast  in  his  sod-built  cell,  shut 
out  from  man,  shut  in  to  God,  is  seen  thus  mistakenly 
wearing  life  away  for  the  soul's  sake.  Then  the  fame 
of  the  hermit's  piety  spreading  through  the  district 
brings  around  his  cell  the  crowd  of  worshippers,  the 
guilty  rich  with  their  gems  and  gold  and  sins,  the  troubled 
poor  giving  their  time  and  toil.  Then  slowly  rises  the 
splendid  abbey,  and  there  spreads  about  it  the  rich 
green  mead,  and  acres  multiply  and  all  around  stretches 
the  teeming  land.  In  the  quiet  acre  of  God  now  is 
sleeping  the  mistaken  seeker  after  God  who  founded 
the  hermitage.  And  now  his  successor,  to  use  Mil- 
man's  picture,  is  no  more  the  poor  ascetic  bowed  down 


144  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

to  the  earth  with  humility,  careworn,  pale,  emaciated, 
with  a  coarse  habit  bound  with  a  cord,  with  naked  feet; 
he  has  become  the  abbot  on  his  curvetting  palfrey,  in 
rich  attire,  with  his  silver  cross  borne  before  him,  trav- 
elling to  take  his  place  amid  the  proudest  and  the  lord- 
liest of  the  realm.  Thus  was  it  everywhere.  Shortly 
after  its  establishment,  each  brotherhood  and  sisterhood 
began  to  add  acres  and  amass  wealth  through  gifts  be- 
stowed for  prayers  or  intended  for  the  relief  of  the  poor, 
the  teaching  of  youth  and  the  service  of  God.  In  their 
first  days  of  poverty,  humility  and  real  self-denial, 
monks  and  nuns  did  attract  powerfully  the  sympathies 
of  men ;  and  those  were  the  days  when  such  sympa- 
thies always  grew  visible  in  silver,  in  land  or  in  work. 
In  their  later  days  of  grasping  and  degeneracy  and  im- 
posture, these  orders  possessed  all  the  means  of  so 
working  on  the  superstitions  of  the  living  and  the  fears 
of  the  dying  that  they  could  extort  money,  and  it 
actually  flowed  into  their  coffers. 

Hallam  states  that  beside  their  money-wealth  the 
British  clergy,  including  all  ranks,  possessed  in  this  age 
about  half  of  England,  and  that  an  even  greater  propor- 
tion of  land  was  in  some  countries  of  Europe  owned  by 
churchmen,  inasmuch  as  they  had  been  able  to  buy,  out 
of  their  well-stored  coffers,  the  great  estates  sold  by  the 
needy  crusaders  when  they  were  preparing  for  the  East. 
In  consequence  of  this  wealth,  the  houses  of  the  older 
religious  orders  grew  everywhere  notorious  for  their 
luxuriousness ;  and  their  members  ceased  to  be  thence- 
forth the  honest  distributors  of  the  riches  that  had  been 
placed  in  their  charge  for  the  poor,  the  ignorant  and 
suff"ering,  and  for  the  cause  of  God. 

Hallam,  who  is  certainly  a  very  impartial   witness, 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  145 

states  :  "  An  account  of  expenses  at  Bolton  Abbey  about 
the  reign  of  Edward  II.  published  in  Whitaker's  history 
makes  a  very  scanty  show  of  almsgiving  in  this  opulent 
monastery.  It  is  a  strange  view  to  conceive  that  Eng- 
lish monasteries  before  their  dissolution  fed  the  indigent 
poor  of  the  nation."  Piers  Plowman  is  indeed  a  satirist, 
but  his  satires  are  founded  on  truth,  and  he  plainly 
charges  the  monks  with  utter  want  of  charity.  "  Little 
had  Lordes  to  do  to  give  landes  from  their  heirs  to  re- 
ligious who  have  no  ruth,  though  it  rain  on  their  altars." 

But  for  the  proof  that  these  priestly  and  monastic 
trustees  wasted  the  goods  of  the  poor  in  riotous  living 
you  have  only  to  study  the  annals  of  the  papacy  itself, 
and  the  many  decrees  published  against  the  luxury  of 
the  priesthood,  the  monks  and  the  nuns.  If  we  would 
disbelieve  the  utter  corruption  of  the  religious  orders  in 
the  middle  ages,  and  credit  instead  Digby,  Maitland  and 
the  modern  apologists  for  all  the  defects  of  medioevalism, 
we  must  then  declare  the  solemn  deliverances  of  papal 
councils  to  be  slanders  and  the  legal  reports  of  episcopal 
visits,  inquiries  and  courts  to  be  the  most  shameless  of 
lies.  Of  the  eleventh  century,  Hildebert,  Bishop  of 
Mans,  thus  writes  :  "  The  clergy  and  monks  are  in  the 
forum  Scythians,  in  the  chamber  Vipers,  at  the  banquets 
Buffoons,  in  their  exactions  Harpies." 

About  1140,  St.  Bernard  says  :  "  Contagion  spreads 
through  the  whole  Church.  A  meretricious  splendor  is 
everywhere  visible ;  vestments  of  actors,  the  parade  of 
kings ;  they  are  called  ministers  of  Christ,  but  really 
are  servants  of  Antichrist;  their  tables  are  splendid 
with  dishes  and  silver ;  great  is  their  gluttony  and  lust 
and  drunkenness.  ,  Their  larders  are  stored  with  pro- 
visions and  their  cellars  are  overflowing  with  wine.  .  .  . 


146  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

It  is  a  wonder  to  me  whence  comes  this  intemperance 
which  I  observe  among  monks  in  their  feasting  and 
revels." 

Innocent  the  Second  said,  in  opening  the  Lateran 
Council :  "  It  is  time,  as  the  apostle  saith,  that  judg- 
ment should  begin  at  the  house  of  God,  for  all  the  cor- 
ruption of  the  world  proceeds  chiefly  from  the  clergy." 

Old  Gerald  of  Cambray,  quoted  by  Blount,  tells  us 
that  before  returning  home  he  dined  once  with  the 
monks  of  Canterbury,  when  the  following  was  the  en- 
tertainment :  "  sixteen  lordly  dishes  and  upwards  ;  fish 
of  divers  kinds,  omelettes,  seasoned  meats  and  sundry 
provocatives  of  the  palate  prepared  by  lay  cooks.  And 
wines  in  profusion." 

Palmer,  one  of  the  great  apologists  for  these  times, 
says  :  "  In  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries  the 
monasteries,  which  had  been  originally  intended  for 
examples  of  perfect  piety  and  devotion  to  God,  were 
polluted  by  gross  sins."  But  of  the  monks'  and  the 
clergy's  perversion  of  the  money  left  for  the  poor,  for 
God's  work  and  worship  to  their  own  use,  the  origina- 
tion of  new  orders  and  the  restoration  of  old  discipline 
are  the  proofs  imbedded  in  the  very  heart  of  popish 
history.  As  Rome  guarded  the  Catacombs  to  her  con- 
fusion, so  has  she  kept  the  annals  of  her  orders  and 
reports  of  her  councils.  Take  but  two  of  these  insti- 
tutions, the  Dominicans,  Masters  of  the  Inquisition,  and 
the  Franciscans,  or  Lesser  Brothers.  Why  were  they 
founded  ?  Notoriously  to  counteract  the  luxuriousness 
of  the  clergy,  and  to  overcome  the  disgust  engendered 
by  the  greed  and  the  rapacity  of  priests  and  friars. 

Mrs.  Oliphant,  no  friend  of  Puritajiism,  rather  indeed 
a  foolish  lover  of  medievalism,  says  in  her  introduction 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  147 

to  the  life  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi :  "The  lands  and 
legacies  and  rich  donations  of  many  a  guilty  penitent, 
buying  ease  to  his  conscience  and  as  he  thought  deliver- 
ance to  his  soul,  infected  as  with  a  moral  contagion  the 
ecclesiastic  who  sold  his  sacred  services.  .  .  .  The  con- 
vents were  gorged  with  wealth ;  the  bishops  were  as 
great  nobles  in  the  land,  and  even  the  parish  priest, 
secure  in  his  ofhcial  influence,  was  often  indifferent  of 
adding  to  it  an}^  spiritual  influence  over  the  people.  It 
was  at  this  moment  that  Francis  in  Italy  and  Dominic 
in  Spain  w^ere  both  stirred  by  the  same  absolute  devo- 
tion to  that  Saviour  who  had  come  penniless  and  home- 
less into  the  world  he  was  to  save,  and  who  had  lived 
the  life  of  a  poor  man  and  died  the  death  of  a  slave." 

The  poverty  of  Francis  and  Dominic  and  their  orders 
are  the  standing  protests  against  the  luxuriousness  of 
the  many  orders  and  the  clergy  and  hierarchy  of  Rome. 

We  are  ever  by  certain  persons  pointed  to  these  me- 
diaeval times  for  a  perfect  model  of  Christian  charity, 
and  to  these  monastic  orders  as  the  perfect  caretakers 
of  the  poor.  So  fondly-dreaming  enthusiasts  now  think. 
What  thought  the  contemporaries  of  these  custodians  of 
bequeathed  charities  ?  Shall  we  believe  those  who  are 
now  gazing  back  through  the  gloom  of  years  and  are 
under  the  glamour  of  myth  and  fancy ;  or  shall  we  be- 
lieve those  who  actually  saw  the  system  for  themselves  ? 
What  said  John  Wycliffe  of  them  ?  "  These  persons  are 
more  busy  about  worldly  goods  than  about  virtue  and 
charity.  For  he  who  can  best  get  the  riches  of  the 
world  together  and  hold  a  great  household  and  much 
money  is  deemed  a  worthy  man  of  the  Church  though 
he  make  not  ready  to  answer  Christ  how  he  spent  the 
goods  of  the  poor  man."     But  a  few  years  ago,  in  a 


148  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

crowded  cathedral  service,  London  and  all  England,  and 
we  too,  were  told  in  most  glowing  eulogies  about  the 
noble  self-denial  of  the  Franciscans  in  their  work  for 
the  poor.  What  did  Bonaventura  think,  when  as  freshly- 
appointed  general  of  the  Franciscans  he  surveyed  that 
order?  These  are  his  own  words:  "This  order  of 
Saint  Francis,  which  should  be  a  mirror  of  holiness,  has 
become,  alas,  the  scandal  of  worldly  people,  an  object 
of  abhorrence  and  contempt.  Why  ?  Because  of  cu- 
pidity and  luxury.  It  is  an  abominable  falsehood  for  a 
man  to  profess  the  voluntary  adoption  of  the  most  ex- 
treme poverty,  while  he  is  not  willing  to  suffer  want  in 
anything ;  for  a  man  to  be  rich  inside  the  monastery, 
while  outside  he  begs  like  a  pauper."  So  spake  a  wit- 
ness, a  churchman,  a  Franciscan  and  the  general  of  the 
order. 

Once  again  in  the  world's  history  was  it  true  that  the 
priest  and  the  Levite,  clad  in  purple  and  fine  linen, 
faring  sumptuously  every  day,  passed  by  on  the  other 
side,  neglecting  the  suffering,  the  needy,  the  dying; 
and  the  real  charity  of  life  remained  with  the  outcast 
Samaritans  of  the  rising  sects. 

From  without,  yonder  hospital  smiles  fair  upon  you 
from  amid  old  historic  trees,  and  is  girt  round  with  life 
and  beauty ;  but  within,  disease  is  everywhere  and 
death  reigns  resistless ; — from  without  and  in  the  dis- 
tance the  monastery  seems  the  symbol  of  charity,  but 
within,  and  to  the  eyes  of  truth,  it  is  foul  with  reckless 
luxury  and  criminal  self-indulgence. 

III.  What  did  the  mediaeval  Church  as  the  mistress 
of  morals  and  the  mother  of  godliness  ? 

Much  at  first  every  way.  It  has  been  asserted  by 
Mr.  Church  that  during  the  opening  ten  centuries  of  its 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  149 

history  Christianity  had  hardly  leavened  society  at  all. 
But  over  against  that  hasty  and  false  generalization  I 
would  put  the  evangelization  of  Germany  and  Britain, 
the  gradual  downfall  of  serfdom,  the  extirpation  of  sui- 
cide so  common  in  pagan  days,  the  purification  of  society 
and  the  establishment  of  law,  social  security  and  family 
life.  For  proof  we  appeal  to  Gibbon,  to  Mill,  to  Comte, 
all  surely  reliable  witnesses  when  they  are  found  on  the 
side  of  the  Church.  As  Cox  has  aptly  stated  in  his 
"  Latin  and  Teutonic  Christianity,"  "  The  Church  gave 
faith  and  with  it  civilization  to  the  two  ruling  races,  the 
Latin  and  the  Teutonic,  and  through  them  to  the  world." 
These  services  I  do  not  forget.  But  then  I  say  that 
just  as  she  was  apostolic,  the  Church  moralized  and 
sanctified ;  just  as  she  grew  papistical,  she  sunk  back 
into  a  Christianized  paganism,  and  then  she  debased 
men  and  demoralized  society. 

Farrar,  in  his  eloquent  Hulsean  lectures,  describes 
the  age  before  us  in  these  striking  sentences  :  "  It  was 
a  state  of  society  remarkably  glittering  and  surpassingly 
corrupt,  radiant  with  external  splendor,  rotten  with  in- 
ternal decay.  Christianity  had  practically  ceased  to  be 
Christian.  Priests  turned  atheists  made  an  open  scoff 
of  the  religion  they  professed ;  scholars  filled  their 
writings  with  blasphemy  and  foulness ;  a  semi-heathen 
classicalism  degraded  even  the  most  sacred  phrases  into 
a  sickening  travesty  of  pagan  idioms ;  the  tenth  Laternn 
Council  found  it  necessary  to  repromulgate  the  doctrine 
of  immortality,  and  the  pope  jested  with  his  secretary 
on  the  profitableness  to  them  of  the  fable  of  Christ." 

Michelet,  in  his  memoir  of  Luther,  says  :  "  In  that 
age  there  was  an  astounding  ostentation  of  wickedness  ; 
the  atheist  priest  thought  himself  the  world's  king." 


150  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

Alas,  those  ages  are  not  only  dark  because  of  reigning 
brute  force,  ignorance  and  greed,  but  inky-black  they 
are  with  a  very  night  of  immorality,  to  be  felt  like  that 
of  Egypt.  And  that  immorality  gathers  and  thickens 
on  the  steps,  in  the  courts  and  in  the  innermost  shrines 
of  the  papal  throne,  till  it  culminates  in  the  chambers 
and  crimes  of  Alexander  the  Sixth, 

Here  I  would  say  that  I  began  to  read  upon  these 
middle  ages  biassed  very  decidedly  in  their  favor  and 
disbelieving  the  current  notions  of  the  gross,  frightful 
immoralities  alleged  to  belong  to  them ;  but  I  am  sorry 
to  say  that  out  of  these  reeking  years,  their  churches, 
their  confessionals,  monasteries,  nunneries,  episcopal  and 
papal  palaces,  I  have  come  convinced  unto  a  sickened 
disgust.  Everywhere  there  is  filth,  reeking,  nauseous, 
deadly. 

The  sanctities  of  this  place  I  will  not  pollute,  nor 
will  I  desecrate  the  decencies  of  life  by  leading  you 
through  those  slimy  corridors ;  they  are  too  foul. 
They  are  more  dangerous  to  our  moral  health  and  life 
than  to  our  physical  is  the  gathered  choke-damp  of 
the  mine.  Bat  if  we  would  know  how  intolerable  the 
yoke  of  bondage  was,  if  we  would  settle  the  question, 
were  the  reformers  justified  in  their  separation  from 
Rome,  and  in  their  testimony  against  her  as  botli  liter- 
ally and  figuratively  "  the  mother  of  harlots,"  we  must 
look  for  a  few  moments  at  the  least  gross  features  of  the 
sins  of  those  days.  Five  grievous  sins  are  constantly 
found  in  the  Church  of  the  middle  ages  :  a.  The  render- 
ing of  God's  commandments  nugatory  through  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Church  ;  h.  The  denial  of  the  obligations  of 
oaths  and  faith-keeping  with  the  enemies  of  the  Church, 
whenever  the  interests  or  possible  aggrandizement  of 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  151 

the  papacy  might  be  concerned ;  c.  Extortion ;  d.  Si- 
mony, and  finally  foul  unchastity.  The  proofs  of  these 
serious  charges  are  not  to  be  found  chiefly  nor  most 
strikingly  in  the  writings  of  Protestants,  but  in  the 
writings  of  contemporary  popish  witnesses.  They  wring 
forth  the  indignant  outcries  of  her  outraged  sons.  We 
hear  them  from  Grostete  and  Clemengis  ;  we  have  them 
proved  at  Pisa  and  Constance ;  we  behold  them  in  a 
Borgia  and  a  Cossa. 

Bishop  Durandus  of  Mende  speaks  thus  in  1310  : 
"  The  papal  court  is  always  sending  out  immoral  clerks 
provided  with  benefices,  whom  the  bishops  are  obliged 
obediently  to  receive ;  that  court  is  continually  extort- 
ing large  sums  of  money  from  prelates,  and  by  its  simony 
is  corrupting  the  whole  clergy,  whose  immorality  has 
exposed  them  to  universal  hatred."  Such  was  the 
moral  condition  during  the  age  of  Innocent  the  Third 
and  his  successors. 

Nicholas  Oresme,  Bishop  of  Lisieux,  describes,  in  an 
elaborate  address  and  in  awfully  plain  terms,  before 
Pope  Urban  the  Fifth  and  the  cardinals  at  Avignon,  the 
iniquities  of  the  Church,  calling  her  "  that  venal  harlot 
whose  shame  God  would  surely  soon  uncover  in  the 
sight  of  all  men."  St.  Bonaventura,  to  whom  I  have 
already  referred,  said,  as  quoted  in  Janus,  page  227  : 
"  In  Rome  church  dignities  were  bought  and  sold,  there 
did  the  powers  and  the  rulers  of  the  Church  assemble, 
dishonoring  God  by  their  incontinence ;  adherents  of 
Satan  they  are,  and  plunderers  of  the  flesh  of  Christ." 
As  to  forgeries,  the  Diillinger  party  and  the  Old  Cath- 
olics have  made  and  are  still  making  the  world  ring 
with  their  charges  of  forgery  of  document  after  docu- 
ment, and  all  to  aid  the  grasping  papacy.     Think  of  the 


152  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

Isidorian  decretals,  think  of  the  forgeries  of  Hildebrand's 
era  and  the  earlier  Roman  fabrications,  to  which  some 
fifty  startling  pages  are  given  in  Janus. 

What  was  the  effect  upon  the  people  of  all  this  clerical 
sin  and  churchly  scandal  and  shame  ?  Moral  ruin.  A 
cardinal,  who  is  now  a  canonized  saint  of  Rome,  stated  : 
"  The  prelates  corrupted  by  Rome  infect  the  lower 
clergy  with  their  vices,  and  the  clergy  by  their  evil 
examj)le  and  profligacy  poison  and  lead  to  perdition  the 
whole  of  Christ's  people."  Ah  yes,  it  was  not  only 
their  new  grasp  of  the  forgotten  word  of  God  that  made 
the  reformers  so  mighty ;  it  was  the  open,  horrible 
iniquity  of  their  priestly  opponents  and  the  undeniable, 
unchecked  degradation  engendered  by  a  rotten  and 
reeking  Church ;  it  was  the  greed  and  ambition  and 
simony  of  bishops  and  popes ;  it  was  the  unutterable 
vileness  of  cloisters  and  confessionals;  it  was  the  wild 
orgies,  the  bestial  sins  and  murders  of  the  Vatican,  that 
caused  the  manly  and  indignant  voices  of  Rome-sickened 
Savonarola,  Luther  and  Zwiiigli,  of  pure-souled  Hamil- 
ton and  Knox,  of  Wycliffe  and  Latimer,  to  ring  out  like 
the  old  prophet's  cry,  startling  the  people  with  "  The 
burden  of  the  Lord  !  Woe !  woe  to  you,  whited  sep- 
ulchres !" 

Yet  we  are  now  asked  to  take  this  Church  as  the 
model  for  the  regathered  multitudes  of  the  faith.  We 
are  asked  to  believe  her  an  apostolic  church,  a  true 
witness  unto  God's  grace  and  Christ's  salvation !  Was 
it  true  witnessing  for  the  arrogant  Innocent  the  Third, 
desiring  to  make  Deuteronomy  the  code  for  Christians 
and  thus  get  Bible  authority  for  his  imperial  powers, 
deliberately  to  falsify  the  text  of  Deuteronomy,  seven- 
teenth chapter,   twelfth  verse ;    for  Leo  the   Tenth  to 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  153 

forge  a  new  verse  in  the  book  of  Kings,  and  for  the 
whole  Church  to  suppress  the  second  commandment? 
Was  it  true  witnessing  for  the  Council  of  Toulouse  to 
forbid  the  laity  to  possess  a  single  copy  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments  in  the  common  tongue ;  and  for  the 
Council  of  Beziers  to  command  the  Inquisition  to  search 
out  every  copy  of  the  Scriptures,  lest  the  people  should 
be  corrupted  and  damned  by  them  ?  Was  it  true  wit- 
nessing unto  him  who.  said  "  Come  unto  me,"  to  inter- 
pose the  countless  hosts  of  sacrificing  priests,  of  saintly 
and  angelic  intercessors,  between  the  soul  and  that 
Saviour  ?  Was  it  true  witnessing  to  raise  the  mountain- 
barriers  of  a  revived  Judaism,  a  baptized  paganism,  a 
consecrated  materialism,  between  the  yearning  human 
spirit  and  that  loving  Spirit  of  Life  who  bids  all  the 
needy  welcome  to  his  grace,  yes,  welcome  to  himself? 

No  !  no  !  it  is  too  late  in  the  world's  history  for  Canon 
Gregory,  for  Maitland,  for  high  churchmen  generally, 
and  for  apologists  for  these  mediaeval  times,  as  they 
seek  to  galvanize  that  dead  medisevalism  into  fresh  life, 
to  tell  us  that  that  Church  of  the  middle  ages,  as  a 
Church,  was  a  witness  to  Christ  at  all.  She  was  w^orse 
than  dead ;  she  spread  corruption  and  death.  She  was 
not  so  much  unchristian  as  antichristian.  The  struggles 
of  the  reformers  before  the  Reformation,  so  graphically 
told  by  Ullman ;  the  contending  of  the  noble  line  of 
evangelical  witnesses  in  France,  Bohemia,  the  Alps  and 
the  Netherlands ;  the  sermons  of  the  monks  burned  at 
Cologne  ;  the  touching  story  of  the  mediaeval  mystics  ; 
the  evangelical  labors  of  Johann  Wessell ;  the  marvellous 
work  of  Wycliffe,  of  Huss  and  Savonarola;  yea,  the 
thrilling  history  of  Luther's  almost  fatal  struggle,  to 
which  we  are  just  approaching,  out  of  mediaeval  mid- 
11 


154  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

night,  into  the  full,  blessed  glory  of  the  gospel's  second 
great  day,  all,  all  unite  to  prove  that  the  old,  aggressive 
apostolic  Church,  witnessing  faithfully  and  victoriously 
to  Christ,  had  passed  away  from  the  communion  and 
sway  of  the  popes  of  Rome  ;  that,  sad  to  tell,  the  grand 
old  Latin  Church  had  now  been  changed  into  the  Church 
of  the  Vatican,  with  the  at  last  completed  mediaeval 
deification  of  the  priesthood ;  that  the  sublime,  soul- 
saving,  heart-calming,  life-ennobling  old  gospel,  "  We 
preach  unto  you  Jesus  and  the  resurrection  :  believe 
and  be  saved,"  had  been  everywhere  corrupted  into  the 
ruinous,  God-insulting  dogma  of  Rome,  "  We  preach  the 
Church,  and  set  forth  the  saints  :  pay  and  be  saved." 

A  change  must  come  ;  the  yoke  must  be  broken.  God 
had  not  written  out  in  his  letters  of  gleaming  light, 
"  The  just  shall  live  by  his  faith,  the  blood  of  Christ 
cleanseth  us  from  all  sin,"  to  suffer  them  forever  to  lie 
hidden  beneath  the  foul  skirts  of  that  modern  Babylon, 
the  fallen  Church.  The  Spirit's  own  witnesses,  the 
anointed  ones,  God's  heroes,  are  coming,  and  the  yoke 
shall  be  destroyed,  the  oppressed  go  free  !  The  jubilee 
nears  ! 

IV.  How  did  the  Church  of  the  middle  ages,  as  the 
servant  of  Christ,  execute  his  laws  ? 

As  of  the  individual  disciple,  so  of  the  great  company 
of  the  faithful,  is  it  the  chiefest  wish  and  the  chiefest 
work,  "  Thy  will  be  done."  Did  the  mediaeval  Church 
honestly  and  heartily  do  the  will  of  Christ  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  laws  of  his  kingdom  ?  Remember 
the  glorious  charter  of  liberty,  "  Call  no  man  master," 
given  to  the  Church  by  her  Lord,  by  the  King  of  kings. 
For  many  a  long  century  the  Church  had  proved  herself 
the  enemy  of  tyrants  :  in  the  person  of  Ambrose  with- 


THE    CHURCH   OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  155 

standing  Theodosiiis,  of  Ansehn  opposing  the  Red  Nor- 
man, of  Gregory  conquering  the  German  imperial  patrons. 
Right  nobly  did  the  Church  fight  for  freedom.  It  were 
grossest  injustice  to  forget  the  services  rendered  to  hu- 
manity by  the  western  Church  in  the  emancipation, 
long  fought  for,  hardly  won,  of  the  Church  from  the 
bondage  of  the  State.  She  fought  out  a  good  fight  and 
she  established  the  fertile  distinction  between  Church  and 
State.  Guizot,  in  his  "  Histor}'-  of  Civilization,"  proves 
this  splendid  service  of  the  mediasval  Church  to  human- 
ity, and  convincingly  shows  that  the  great  principle  on 
which  the  Church  fought  the  battle  has  been  a  lasting 
gain  to  the  world.  She  founded  her  claim  for  freedom 
on  this  idea :  material  forces  have  no  right  over  the 
mind,  over  civilization  and  truth.  John  Stuart  Mill 
expresses  his  estimate  of  that  work  somewhat  thus  : 
"  Enormous  as  have  been  the  sins  of  the  Catholic  Church 
in  the  way  of  intolerance,  her  assertion  of  the  superior- 
ity of  truth  to  force  has  done  more  for  human  freedom 
than  all  the  fires  she  enkindled  to  destroy  it.  From 
the  days  of  Constantine  downwards,  two  tendencies  are 
manifest  as  you  study  ecclesiastical  history ;  first,  the 
desire  of  the  civil  ruler  to  make  the  Church  the  crea- 
ture of  the  State ;  and  second,  the  determination  of  the 
Church  to  regain  and  maintain  her  independence." 

In  the  centuries  of  the  great  popes,  stretching  from 
Hildebrand  to  the  captivity  at  Avignon,  we  see  the 
triumph  of  the  Church.  "  In  such  lawless  times,"  says 
Milman,  "  it  was  an  elevating  sight  to  behold  an  em- 
peror of  Germany,  in  the  plenitude  of  his  power,  arrested 
in  his  attempts  to  crush  the  young  freedom  of  the  Ital- 
ian republic ;  a  warlike  tyrant  like  Philip  Augustus  of 
France,  or  a  pusillanimous  one  like  John  of  England, 


156  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

standing  rebuked  for  their  criminal  oppressions  at  the 
voice  of  a  feeble  old  man  in  a  remote  city." 

Yes,  there  was  much  grandeur  in  that  success ;  but 
there  was  an  ineffaceable  stain  on  the  glory :  that 
power  and  independence  when  gained  were  perverted, 
and  to  the  very  basest  purposes ;  and,  hence,  were  des- 
tined to  vanish  away.  Many  of  the  ways  trodden  by 
the  Church  of  Rome  to  that  supreme  seat  of  honor  and 
might  were  red  with  blood  and  were  filthy  with  sin ; 
and  wellnigh  the  whole  use  she  made  of  her  power 
under  Gregory,  Innocent,  Urban  and  Boniface  was  in- 
describably bad.  In  the  noonday  of  her  glory  the  me- 
diaeval Church  exalted  herself  from  a  power  independent 
of  and  co-ordinate  with  the  State  into  the  uncontrolled, 
all-despotic  and  merciless  mistress  of  the  world.  Pass- 
ing from  the  pure  and  perfect  spiritual  theocracy  which 
recognized  Immanuel  as  her  sole  head,  the  Church  be- 
came more  and  more  an  earthly,  absolute  monarchy, 
ruled  by  an  ecclesiastical  tyrant,  underneath  whose  iron 
heel  liberty  wellnigh  perished. 

The  great  popes  opposed  and  destroyed  the  liberty 
of  the  individual  conscience,  the  liberty  of  the  Christian 
congregation  and  of  the  inferior  clergy  ;  next  the  liberty 
of  the  higher  clergy,  of  the  diocesan  bishops  and  of  the 
.church  councils ;  and  ultimately  they  assailed  and  en- 
dangered, in  some  instances  did  actually  destroy,  the 
liberties  of  states  and  kingdoms,  yes,  of  the  entire  world 
of  thought,  of  civilization,  of  society,  politics  and  gov- 
ernment; then  came  the  deluge.  In  the  thirteenth 
century  the  popes  ceased  to  style  themselves  vicars  of 
Peter  and  became  the  vicars  of  Christ,  asserting  that 
they  were  the  personal  representatives  of  the  Almighty 
on  earth,  and  hence  were  clothed  with  powers  above  all 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  157 

earthly  powers,  laws  and  limitations.  Mohammedans 
cried,  "  There  is  but  one  God,  and  Mohammed  is  his 
prophet ;"  but  the  ultramontane  despotism  of  Gregory 
and  Innocent  cried  across  the  broad  Catholic  world, 
"  There  is  one  infallible  Jehovah,  and  we  are  his  repre- 
sentatives, the  embodiment  of  his  will,  and  are  infallible  ; 
who  resists  us,  resists  God ;  conscience.  Church  and 
countries  all  must  obey  us  as  fully  as  God !"  Was  this 
faithful  administration  of  God's  law  ? 

Liberty  of  conscience  is  the  will  and  law  of  Christ ; 
"  Call  no  man  master,  for  one  is  your  master,  even 
Christ ;"  "  Search  the  Scriptures ;"  "  I  speak  as  unto 
wise  men,  judge  ye  what  I  say  ;"  "  Let  every  man  be 
fully  persuaded  in  his  own  mind."  These  are  the  King's 
words  to  men.  God  is  alone  the  Lord  of  conscience  ; 
and  he  has  given  to  us  the  one  perfect  rule  of  faith  and 
practice ;  he  has  promised  his  spirit  to  guide  us  into 
all  truth,  and  that  promise  is  for  every  seeking  soul ; 
he  has  freed  men  from  the  obligation  to  believe  any- 
thing but  the  teaching  of  his  spirit  through  his  word ; 
yea,  has  actually  forbidden  men  to  believe  the  doctrines 
and  commandments  of  men,  if  unauthorized  by  his 
word.  But  the  Church  in  the  mediixBval  days  demanded 
and  actually  usurped  the  position  of  the  infallible  ex- 
positor, and  demanded  and  universally  exercised  the 
power  to  bind  men's  consciences,  to  open  and  close  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  to  save  or  damn  at  will.  This  self- 
styled  vicegerent  of  Christ  said,  "  Ye  shall  neither  have 
the  right  of  private  judgment  nor  possess  the  word  that 
regulates  judgment  and  illuminates  the  conscience."  The 
Church  of  the  popes,  for  they  claimed  to  be  the  Church, 
became  actually  antichrist.  So  far  did  the  strong-willed 
popes  extend  their  antichristian  claims  that  they  affirmed 


158  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

and  decreed  that  every  person  baptized  becomes  thereby 
subject  to  the  pope,  and  must,  because  baptized,  remain 
such  a  vassal  all  his  life,  whether  he  will  or  no,  and  m 
death  be  his  slave,  to  be  consigned  to  light  or  darkness  ! 
Was  it  not  an  iron  yoke,  an  intolerable  yoke  ? 

Innocent  the  Third  writes  thus  :  "  The  Lord  gave  not 
only  the  whole  Church  to  Peter,  but  the  whole  world, 
for  he  bade  Peter  walk  the  waves ;  now  the  waves  are 
the  nations,  whence  it  is  clear  that  we,  Peter's  succes- 
sors, are  entitled  to  rule  the  nations,  and  that  every 
Christian,  though  baptized  outside  the  papal  communion, 
is  not  only  subject  to  all  the  laws  of  the  Church,  but 
also  to  the  vicar  of  Christ,  seated  on  Peter's  seat, 
who  may  call  him  to  account  and  punish  him  foi^  every 
grave  sin,  even  to  the  penalty  of  death."  Was  that 
law  Christ's  will  ?  Was  it  not  a  despot's  horrible 
decree  ? 

The  liberty  of  the  Christian  congregation  conferred 
by  Christ  was  by  the  popes  in  those  ages  destroyed 
utterly.  Manifestly  the  several  Christian  congregations 
in  apostolic  days  possessed  the  right  of  selecting  by 
popular  vote  their  own  pastors  and  teachers ;  and  it  is 
undeniable  that  for  many  long  years  this  God-given 
right  was,  without  interference,  both  claimed  and  exer- 
cised by  the  Church  of  God.  This  liberty,  bestowed  in 
those  happy  days  and  enjoyed  through  the  opening  cen- 
turies of  the  Christian  era,  was  the  gift  and  the  will  of 
Christ ;  but  the  last  vestige  of  that  freedom  disappeared 
in  the  mediaeval  times.  Partly  through  their  own  neg- 
lect, as  Killen  shows  in  his  "  Old  Catholic  Church,"  the 
professing  Christian  people  had  allowed  their  right  to 
be  wrested  from  their  grasp ;  but  chiefly  through  the 
plots  and   devices  and  decrees   of  the   papal  curia  had 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  159 

they  finally  been  robbed  of  their  privileges  and  liberty. 
Henceforth  such  complaints  are  loud  and  frequent,  as 
those  which  are  quoted  in  the  "  Pope  and  the  Council :" 
"  that  court,  which  has  drawn  all  things  to  itself,  is 
always  sending  out  clerks  whom  we  are  obliged  obe- 
diently to  receive." 

The  liberty  of  the  inferior  clergy  was  completely  de- 
stroyed. For  many  long  centuries  the  equality  of  bish- 
ops had  completely  disappeared,  and  the  apostolic  parity 
of  presbyters  had  yielded  to  prelatic  and  papal  dignities  ; 
but  in  the  days  of  Hildebrand  two  new  decrees  went 
forth  so  absolute,  and  were  exercised  with  cruelty  so 
heartless,  that  the  inferior  clergy  were  reduced  to  a 
state  of  positive  serfdom.  These  two  decrees  enjoined 
the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  and  placed  the  monks  above 
the  parochial  ministers.  Few  chapters  in  history  are 
so  dark  and  horrible  with  unfaltering  cruelty  and  un- 
measured tyranny  as  that  which  details  the  execution 
of  the  Gregorian  edict  for  the  dissolution  of  clerical 
marriages.  A  German  bishop,  horrified  at  the  priestly 
profligacy  and  monastic  immorality  of  his  times,  had 
given  license  to  all  his  clergy  to  contract,  if  they  chose, 
regular  marriages ;  his  diocese  became  nobly  notorious 
for  its  social  purity,  for  the  respect  paid  to  the  ministers, 
for  its  well-built  and  well-filled  churches,  and  for  the 
spreading  religious  life  of  the  district.  Then  came  forth 
the  antichristian  decree  of  clerical  celibacy.  The  bishop, 
his  clergy  and  the  nobles  of  his  diocese  sent  forward 
strong  and  repeated  petitions  for  exemption  on  the 
ground  of  the  superior  morality  and  religiousness  of  their 
diocese  and  district.  That  petition  was  rejected.  Firm 
stood  the  bishops,  the  clergy,  the  nobles.  Out  rolled  the 
thunders  of  the  Vatican.     Still  the  petitioners  pleaded, 


160  •  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

but  stood  firm  in  their  opposition  to  the  despotic  decree. 
Threats  followed  upon  threats.  Then  came  the  ban, 
the  interdict,  the  excommunication.  That  diocese  grew 
silent  as  the  grave  so  far  as  public  worship  went ;  the 
dead  lay  unburied ;  so  it  continued  till  the  happy  ftxm- 
ilies  of  the  clergy  were  all  broken  up  and  the  chaste 
married  life  was  exchanged  for  a  licensed,  because  con- 
cealed, concubinage. 

The  final  blow  was  struck  by  the  Vatican  at  the 
liberties  of  the  ordinary  clergy  in  this  decree,  which 
sanctioned  in  the  thirteenth  century  the  new  religious 
orders. 

I  shall  let  DoUinger  tell  the  story  :  "  The  Franciscans 
and  Dominicans,  the  Augustinians  and  Carmelites,  espe- 
cially the  first  two,  were  the  strongest  pillars  and  sup- 
ports of  this  despotism.  After  the  Isidorian  decretals, 
the  introduction  of  these  orders,  with  their  rigid  mo- 
narchical organization,  was  the  third  great  lever  whereby 
the  old  church  system  was  undermined  and  destroyed. 
Completely  under  Roman  control,  and  acting  every- 
where as  papal  delegates,  wholly  independent  of  bishops, 
with  plenary  powers  to  encroach  on  the  rights  of  parish 
priests,  these  monks  labored  for  the  papal  authority  on 
which  their  prerogatives  rested.  We  may  say  that 
authoi'ity  was  literally  doubled  through  their  means. 
Thus  the  spiritual  campaign  against  priestly  independ- 
ence, organized  at  Rome,  was  carried  into  every  village, 
and  the  parish  clergy  generally  succumbed  to  the  men- 
dicants, armed  as  they  were  with  privileges  from  head 
to  heel.  They  could  compel  both  priest  and  people  by 
excommunication  to  hear  them  preach  the  papal  indul- 
gences. Bishops  and  priests  felt  their  impotence  against 
this  new  power  of  these  monks  strengthened  by  the  In- 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES."  161 

quisition,  and  had,  however  indignantly,  to  bow  under 
the  yoke  laid  on  their  necks." 

With  the  liberties  of  the  ordinary  clergy  soon  there 
disappeared  also  the  liberties  of  the  bishops  themselves 
and  of  the  councils.  Innocent  the  Third  and  Gregory 
the  Ninth,  pointing  to  the  plenary  powers  possessed  by 
the  Roman  Csesars,  declared  their  right  to  make  and 
unmake  laws,  to  dispense  with  church  canons,  whether 
canons  of  councils  or  decrees  of  popes,  and  in  some 
cases  to  suspend  the  very  laws  of  God. 

Then  were  the  days  when  verily  the  pope  was  uni- 
versal bishop  and  the  embodied  Church.  Clement  the 
Ninth  affirmed  the  right  of  the  Church  to  give  away  all 
church  offices  without  distinction.  Innocent  the  Third 
declared  that  all  bishops  were  bound  to  unconditional 
subjection  to  the  pope,  in  political  as  well  as  ecclesias- 
tical matters ;  and  absolved  all  clergy  from  their  alle- 
giance to  any  rulers  who  might  oppose  the  court  of 
Rome.  Pius  the  Second  declared  that  a  bishop  broke 
his  oath  who  uttered  any  truth  inconvenient  for  the 
pope  ;  and  he  forbade  the  convocation  of  any  parliament 
save  by  the  pope's  consent  and  authority.  Is  it  any 
wonder  that  Cardinal  Zaborella,  as  quoted  in  Janus, 
should  say,  "  So  completely  has  the  pope  destroyed  all 
the  rights  of  all  the  lesser  churches  that  the  bishops  are 
as  good  as  non-existent "  ? 

The  liberties  of  conscience,  of  the  congregation  and  of 
the  lower  and  higher  clergy  were  now  all  destroyed  ;  and 
this  usurpation  was  completed  by  the  overthrow  of  the 
liberties  of  the  church  councils.  Whatever  opinion  be 
held  as  to  the  wisdom  and  authority  of  church  councils, 
it  is  demonstrated  by  Hefele  and  other  historians  deal- 
ing with  this  special  topic  that  up  to  the  year  1123  every 


162  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

council,  in  publishing  decrees,  sent  them  forth  as  the  will 
of  the  council,  and  not  the  law  of  the  pope.  Then,  how- 
ever, Calixtus  the  Second  summoned  the  first  Lateran 
Council — name  of  ill  omen ! — not  to  deliberate  and  legis- 
late, but  to  receive  his  legislation  and  passively  sanction 
his  acts.  From  that  hour  onward  all  real  freedom  of 
debate  in  Roman  church  assemblies  ceased ;  despotic, 
iniquitous  and  blasphemous  edicts  followed  edicts,  till  the 
despotism,  the  iniquity  and  the  blasphemy  culminated 
in  the  deification  of  Mary  and  the  declaration  of  the  in- 
fallibility of  Pius  the  Ninth.  Then  and  thus,  as  Dorner 
shows  and  the  Old  Catholic  Synod  affirms,  "  The  Chris- 
tian conscience  of  the  people  was  wholly  ignored ; 
the  rights  of  laity,  clergy,  bishops  and  theologians  to 
discuss  articles  of  fidth  were  denied ;  the  parochial 
priesthood,  through  enforced  celibacy  and  the  influence 
of  the  terrible  Inquisition,  was  reduced  to  abject  vassal- 
age ;  the  co-ordination  of  bishops  was  now  lost  in  the 
subordination  of  the  episcopal  bench  to  the  papal  throne; 
the  national  churches,  from  being  coequal  and  free  com- 
munities, were  degraded  into  the  oppressed  provinces 
of  an  absolute  spiritual  monarchy,  and  councils  had  be- 
come only  an  excuse  for  continuous  papal  aggressions." 
But  one  other  step  forward,  one  other  struggle,  and  the 
Church,  in  the  person  of  her  pope,  placed  her  proud  but 
defiled  feet  on  the  dizzy  heights  of  supreme  authority, 
and  stood  forth  before  the  world  claiming  to  be  the 
mistress  of  all  men,  the  fountain,  guardian  and  absolute 
owner,  by  divine  right,  of  all  rule  and  power. 

*'  From  land  to  land 
The  ancient  thrones  of  Christendom  are  stuff 
For  occupation  of  a  magic  wand, 
And  'tis  the  pope  that  wields  it — whether  rough 
Or  smooth  his  front,  our  world  is  in  his  hand."' 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  163 

The  destruction  of  the  civil  liberty  was  the  last  great 
usurpation  of  Rome.  By  God's  authority  civil  rulers 
move  within  their  own  independent  kingdom,  subject 
not  to  the  Church,  but  to  God,  whose  ministers  they 
are.  Side  by  side  with  the  State  works  the  Church, 
wholly  free  from  the  State,  yet  by  no  means  the  mistress 
of  the  civil  power.  Through  the  frauds,  the  forgeries 
and  the  force  of  Gregory,  the  Church  of  the  popes  had 
advanced  to  the  very  side  of  the  Master  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire,  and  stood  as  his  equal.  But  it  contented 
not  the  haughty  pontiff  to  be  the  equal  of  that  imperial 
chief  of  Hohenstaufen's  historic  line.  "  Aut  Ciesar,  aut 
nullus."  The  pope  must  be  supreme,  yes,  absolute  : 
the  lord  of  the  kings'  lord.  Fierce  and  deadly  was  the 
fight  between  popes  and  emperors.  "  The  whole  of  this 
policy  is  personified  in  one  man,  Hildebrand.  Hilde- 
brand,  who  has  been  by  turns  indiscreetl}'  exalted  or 
unjustly  traduced,  is  the  personification  of  the  Roman 
pontificate  in  its  strength  and  glory.  He  is  one  of 
those  characters  in  history  which  include  in  themselves 
a  new  order  of  things,  resembling  in  this  respect  Charle- 
magne, Luther,  Napoleon,  in  different  spheres  of  action. 
One  grand  idea  occupied  his  comprehensive  mind.  He 
desired  to  establish  a  visible  theocracy,  of  which  the 
pope  as  the  vicar  of  Christ  should  be  the  head.  The 
recollection  of  the  ancient  universal  dominion  of  heathen 
Rome  haunted  his  imagination  and  animated  his  zeal." 
Read  Milman's  thrilling  pages  of  the  deadly  struggle 
between  Henry  the  Fourth  and  Hildebrand ;  follow  the 
wars  of  Italy ;  watch  the  siege  of  Rome,  the  march  of  the 
papal  guards  and  the  brutal  mercenaries ;  look  on  the 
rush  of  the  Normans  to  help  Gregory  against  his  foe  ; 
behold  the  fight  in  the  holy  city  between  the  Saracen 


164  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

allies  of  that  most  holy  father  and  the  sturdy  soldiery 
of  the  German  Osesar,  and  you  have  the  startling  picture 
of  that  Church  which  some  Anglicans  are  now  pointing 
out  to  us  as  the  model  for  all  churches.  On  strode  the 
Church,  bribing  and  bloodstained,  cursing  and  perjured? 
using  now  the  smile  of  the  harlot  to  win  some  strong 
noble  a  very  slave  of  his  lust,  now  the  promise  of  the 
pallium  and  the  mitre  to  gain  the  aid  of  some  popular 
and  powerful  bishop,  ever  with  lavish  hand  using  her 
harshly-extorted  gold  to  bribe  the  mercenary,  ever  with 
fierce  mouth  hurling  forth  her  curses,  interdicts  and 
anathemas  to  bow  the  stubborn ;  on  and  on  through 
crowded  graves,  sacked  cities,  burned  churches,  desolated 
lands,  hand  in  hand  with  all  the  sin  and  shame  of  those 
diabolic  days,  till,  overthrowing  the  imperial  house  of  the 
Hohenstaufens,  she  gained  for  herself  the  dizzy  height 
of  glory  through  the  services  of  the  Hapsburghs.  Then 
heaven  wept  to  see  on  earth  what  the  tempter  tried  in 
vain  to  gain  in  the  wilderness,  the  Church  taking  the 
kingdom  of  this  world  out  of  the  hand  of  Satan.  The 
Church  was  then  at  Satan's  feet.  From  Christ  she  had 
passed  to  antichrist,  and  over  men  she  tyrannized  with 
the  fell  forces  of  darkness  and  of  death.  Then  hell 
from  beneath  moved  to  meet  her  at  her  coming,  in 
this  her  fall ;  the  chief  ones  of  the  earth,  the  olden 
tyrants  of  the  olden  days,  starting  from  their  thrones 
cried,  "  Art  thou  become  like  unto  us,  thou  the  once 
pure  Calvary  Church,  thou  God's  star  of  the  morn- 
ing, thou  fallen  thus  from  the  heaven  of  thy  grace 
and  truth,  humility  and  devotion  to  Christ,  thou  de- 
graded to  the  abominable  beast,  thou  sunken  unto 
the  woman  drunken  with  the  blood  of  the  saints,  thy 
shameless  brow  branded  with  this  terrific  title,  Mys- 


THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  165 

tery,  Babylon,  the  mother  of  harlots  and  abominations 
of  the  earth." 

Yea  verily,  such  had  she  become.  The  wicked  of  the 
earth  laughed  in  derision  ;  the  good  wailed  in  pain ; 
spirit-voices  were  heard  crying  "  Ichabod,  Ichabod ;" 
the  souls  of  the  witnesses  beneath  the  altar  cried, 
"  How  long,  0  Lord  !  how  long  ?"  and  great  trumpet^ 
tones  pealed  out,  "  Come  out  of  her,  my  people,  and  be 
ye  separate."  Above  all  God's  calm  voice  was  heard 
saying,  "  The  yoke  shall  be  broken,  the  oppressed  shall 
go  free.  Surely  as  I  have  thought,  so  shall  it  come  to 
pass,  and  as  I  have  purposed,  so  shall  it  stand  :  at  the 
eventide  it  shall  be  light."  Light,  the  light  of  life  and 
love  ! 

"  Vainly  that  ray  of  brightness  from  above, 

That  shone  around  the  Galilean  lake, 

The  light  of  hope,  the  leading  star  of  love, 

Struggled  the  darkness  of  that  day  to  break  ; 

Even  its  own  faithless  guardians  strove  to  slake, 

In  fogs  of  earth,  the  pure  ethereal  flame ; 

And  priestly  hands,  for  Jesus'  blessfed  sake, 

Were  red  with  blood,  and  charity  became. 
In  that  stern  war  of  forms,  a  mockery  and  a  name. 

"  They  triumphed,  and  less  bloody  rites  were  kept 
Within  the  quiet  of  the  convent-cell ; 
The  well-fed  inmates  pattered  prayer,  and  slept, 
And  sinned,  and  liked  their  easy  penance  well. 
Where  pleasant  was  the  spot  for  men  to  dwell. 
Amid  its  fair  broad  lands  the  abbey  lay. 
Sheltering  dark  orgies  that  were  shame  to  tell, 
And  cowled  and  barefoot  beggars  swarmed  the  way. 

All  in  their  convent  weeds,  of  black,  and  white,  and  gray. 

"  Still  heaven  deferred  the  hour  ordained  to  rend 
From  saintly  rottenness  the  sacred  stole  ; 
And  cowl  and  worshipped  shrine  could  still  defend 
The  wretch  with  felon  stains  upon  his  soul ; 


166  THE    INTOLERABLE    YOKE. 

And  crimes  were  set  to  sale,  and  hard  his  dole 
Who  could  not  bribe  a  passai^e  to  the  skies  ; 
And  vice,  beneath  the  mitre's  kind  control, 
Sinned  gayly  on,  and  grew  to  giant  size. 
Shielded  by  priestly  power,  and  watched  by  priestly  eyes. 

"  At  last  the  earthquake  came — the  shock  that  hurled 
To  dust,  in  many  fragments  dashed  and  strown, 
The  throne  whose  roots  were  in  another  world. 
And  whose  far-stretching  shadow  awed  our  own. 
From  many  a  proud  monastic  pile,  o'erthrown, 
Fear-struck,  the  hooded  inmates  rushed  and  fled  ; 
The  web,  that  for  a  thousand  years  had  grown 
O'er  prostrate  Europe,  in  that  day  of  dread 

Crumbled  and  fell,  as  fire  dissolves  the  flaxen  thread. 

"  The  spirit  of  that  day  is  still  awake, 
And  spreads  himself,  and  shall  not  sleep  again  ; 
But  through  the  idle  mesh  of  power  shall  l)reak 
Like  billows  o'er  the  Asian  monarch's  chain  ; 
Till  men  are  filled  with  him,  and  feel  how  vain. 
Instead  of  the  pure  heart  and  innocent  hands, 
Are  all  the  proud  and  pompous  modes  to  gain 
The  smile  of  heaven  ; — till  a  new  age  expands 

Its  white  and  holy  wings  above  the  peaceful  lands." 


MARTIN  LUTHER, 


"We  need,  methinks,  the  prophet-hero  still, 
Saints  true  of  life  and  martyrs  strong  of  will, 
To  tread  the  land, 

Proclaiming  freedom  in  the  name  of  God, 
And  startling  tyrants  with  the  fear  of  hell ! 
Soft  words,  smooth  prophecies,  are  doubtless  well. 
But  to  rebuke  the  age's  popular  crime, 
We  need  the  souls  of  fire,  the  hearts  of  that  old  time." 

"  His  social  life  wore  no  ascetic  form ; 
He  loved  all  beauty,  without  fear  of  harm, 
And  in  his  veins  his  Teuton  blood  ran  warm." 


ATJTHOEITIES  CONSULTED. 


Luther's  Works;  Selections  by  Lommler;  Letters;  Table-Talk; 
Melancthon's  Historia;  Meurer ;  Croly ;  Ziminermann  ;  D'Aubigne; 
Bunsen  ;  Kcistlin  ;  Michelet ;  Boner;  Schcinberg-Cotta  Family;  Dorner's 
Theology  ;  Dietz  and  Ackermann  ;  Tulloch  and  Cunningham's  Reply  ; 
Carlyle  ;  Froude  ;  Hare's  Vindication  ;  with  numerous  articles  in  cyclo- 
paedias, reviews  and  magazines. 


MARTIN  LUTHER, 

THE  MONK  OF  ERFURT-THE  MAN  OF  THE  EMAN- 
CIPATION. 


"  They  glorified  God  in  me." — Galatians  i.  24. 

There  are  men  who  belong  to  a  year,  to  a  decade,  to 
a  period  ;  there  are  men  who  belong  to  the  ages  and  live 
for  all  time ;  there  are  men,  fresh  and  forceful,  who  be- 
long to  a  city,  to  a  country,  to  a  continent,  and  men  who 
belong  to  the  world ;  there  are  men  w^ho  belong  to  a 
class,  to  a  particular  circle,  to  a  single  definite  move- 
ment, to  a  special  field  of  distinct  struggle,  and  men 
who  belong  to  the  wdde  realm  of  our  common  humanity, 
to  the  round  globe  of  varying  interests,  manifold  thought 
and  universal  activity  ;  there  are  men  of  whom  j^ou  say, 
"  they  were,"  and  men  of  whom  all  competent  witnesses 
declare,  "they  are" — are  to-day  central  men,  chieftains, 
summations  of  the  past,  explanations  of  the  present, 
inspirations  for  the  future,  fresh  forces  still  and  unspent, 
lights  increasing  while  thousands  wax  old  and  are  ready 
to  vanish  away.  And  these  men  to  be  wondered  at ; 
these  men  "  most  men,  who  work  best  for  men ;"  these 
men,  "  to  whom  nothing  of  humanity  is  alien,"  are  the 
strong,  true  men  to  gather  round,  to  study  and  to  learn 
from. 

Art,  literature,  science,  politics,  have  in  their  Angelos, 
Miltons,  Newtons  and  Hampdens   their  universal,  im- 

12 


170  MARTIN   LUTHER, 

mortal,  many-sided  chiefs ;  and  shall  the  Church,  re- 
vealer  of  the  perfect  beauty,  guardian  and  mother  of 
highest  song  and  sublimest  prose,  friend  of  the  truth 
and  teacher  of  the  perfect  law,  not  have  her  imperial 
spirits  ?  Yes,  verily ;  all  down  her  line  she  has  fur- 
nished these  kinglike  children  of  the  King  of  kings  ;  and 
curious  enough  it  is,  they  ever  meet  us  by  threes,  these 
mightiest  of  God's  host,  overtopping  all  the  remaining 
host  of  the  covenant-heroes — Moses,  Samuel,  Elijah ; 
Peter,  John  and  Paul ;  Athanasius,  Augustine  and  Chry- 
sostom;  Patrick,  Columba  and  Boniface;  Luther,  Calvin 
and  Knox ;  and  of  these  three,  mightiest  and  midmost, 
stands  manly,  merry,  massive,  masterly  Martin  Luther, 
monk  of  Erfurt  and  man  of  the  great  Emancipation — 
"  a  great  brother  man,"  "  sov.ereign  of  this  greatest  rev- 
olution," "  prophet  idol-breaker,"  "  bringer  back  of  men 
to  reality,"  "  true  son  of  Nature  and  Fact,  for  whom 
these  centuries  and  many  yet  to  come  will  be  thankful 
to  heaven." 

This  man,  whom  grace  made  humble  and  God  made 
great,  belongs  to  the  world's  centuries,  to  the  common 
activities,  the  broadening  thought,  the  dominant  forces 
and  the  farthest-reaching  influences  of  to-day  and  to- 
morrow. He  belongs  to  the  Church  universal ;  his  life 
and  labors  are  telling  mightily  within  the  Romish  pale 
as  well  as  without.  The  Council  of  Trent  and  the  West- 
minster Assembly,  the  wily  Jesuit  and  William  Care}^, 
are  all  linked,  though  by  very  different  bands,  to  the 
monk  of  Erfurt,  scholar,  singer,  sage,  statesman,  saint ; 
a  joy  to  real  men,  triumph  and  trophy  of  God's  Son  and 
Spirit.     "  We  glorify  God  in  him." 

Yes,  God  we  glorify  while  we  recall  the  man ;  for 
this   service  is  no  secret  canonization,  no  subtle   hero- 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  171 

worship,  no  exquisite  Protestant  idolatry,  no  uncon- 
scious act  of  most  refined  deification.  We  see  the  sin- 
ner who  had  his  hard  fight  to  wage  through  life  with 
his  fallen  nature  and  was  saved  only  hy  grace,  while 
we  thankfully  honor  the  great  revolutionary  and  grand 
reformer  in  whom  God's  grace  found  a  fit  instrument 
and  wrought  so  efficaciously  and  abundantly  for  our 
emancipation. 

If  Stephen  in  his  masterly  apology  and  Paul  in  his 
thrilling  roll-call  of  God's  heroes  set  before  their  audit- 
ors the  God-crowned  victors  in  the  noble  fight,  why 
should  we  not  look  long  and  lovingly  on  those  leaders 
of  the  sacramental  host  who  have  been  made  more  than 
conquerors  through  the  Christ  who  loved  them  and 
whom  they  so  loved  ?  God's  historic  word  reveals  often- 
est  embodied  grace.  There  we  see  grace  triumphant, 
and  glorify  God,  who,  by  his  grace,  made  the  men  "  of 
like  passions"  live  to  be  ''the  praise  of  the  glory  of 
his  grace."  God's  hand  and  his  grace  are  manifest  in 
the  earnest  boy  of  Eisenach,  the  ardent  student  of  Er- 
furt, the  God-fearing  reformer  of  Wittenberg,  and  the 
popular  preacher  of  northern  Germany. 

The  Earnest  Boy  of  Eisenach. 
It  is  a  sweet,  bright  September  afternoon.  I  am 
pushing  my  way  up  George  Street  in  this  hill-crowned, 
pine-shadowed,  mead-girdled  little  town  on  the  Horsel, 
Eisenach,  beneath  the  Wartburg ;  and  as  I  pause  before 
the  little  door  of  a  quaint  old  house,  summer  sunshine 
and  to-day's  business  fade  away,  and  winter  cold,  and 
olden  industries,  and  unfamiliar  phrases,  and  curious 
garb,  and  strange,  pathetic  singing,  and  nightfall,  are 
about.     A   band   of  boys,  some   twelve,  some   fifteen. 


172  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

one  seventeen  years  of  age,  are  singing,  poor  scholars, 
for  their  bread ;  and  he  of  seventeen  has  the  broadest 
brow  and  deepest  eyes  and  sweetest  voice  and  thinnest 
cheeks,  yes,  and  that  evening,  saddest  face,  of  any.  The 
door  opens  and  a  woman's  soft,  tender  hand  lifts  the 
boy's  face ;  a  woman's  eyes  look  deep  down  into  those 
pool-like  eyes ;  a  woman's  heart  pities  the  thin  cheeks ; 
a  woman's  motherly  love  goes  out  to  the  starving  lad 
whose  voice  in  the  village  choir  had  often  lifted  her 
nearer  to  God,  and  now  made  her  God's  helper  in  the 
Reformation.  "  Who  art  thou,  and  whose  son  ?"  "  I 
am  little  Martin,  and  the  son  of  Hans  and  Marguerethe 
Luther  of  Mansfield ;"  and  Dame  Ursula  Cotta  took 
him  from  that  hour  to  her  home  and  heart.  That  day 
in  Eisenach  God  had  "a  missing  hand,"  to  use  Mrs. 
Browning's  striking  phrase ;  and  that  good  woman,  like 
Miriam,  said,  "  Let  others  miss  me ;  never  miss  me 
God ;"  and  wheresoever  the  gospel  of  free  grace  is 
preach.ed,  let  the  name  of  her  "content  with  duty"  be 
told  in  gratitude  and  with  honor. 

It  was  the  grace  of  God  meeting  the  starving  scholar. 
He  is  the  child  of  hard-wrought  parents,  the  child  of 
praj'er,  the  first-born  of  a  pious  though  somewhat  stern 
home.  Near  the  very  centre  of  Germany — significant 
fact — in  Saxony,  is  Eisleben,  where  about  midnight  of 
the  10th  of  November,  1483,  is  heard  the  first  cry 
of  a  new-born  child,  and  where,  over  a  newly-swaddled 
babe,  a  hard-working  miner  soon  bows  in  earnest  prayer, 
dedicating  his  boy  to  God.  God  accepts  the  ofi'ering 
and  seals  the  infant  Martin  Luther  to  sublime  and  suc- 
cessful work.  Watched  by  that  strong-brained,  free- 
souled,  keen-witted,  industrious  and  God-fearing  father, 
who  often  knelt  by  the  child's  cot  wi-estling  in  prayer 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  173 

that  rich  blessings  might  be  showered  on  his  first-born ; 
carefully  tended  and  wisely  taught  by  his  devoted  and 
wise  mother ;  surrounded  by  the  profitably-talking  mi- 
ners, companions  of  his  father  ;  hearkening  to  the  mind- 
stirring  tales  of  travellers  who  came  for  trade  from  other 
shores ;  having  his  strong  memory  stored  with  pithy 
proverbs  and  suggestive  folk-lore  yet  to  be  frequently 
and  forcibly  employed  in  keen  fight  and  pointed  preach- 
ing ;  having  his  tuneful  spirit  stirred  by  songs  and 
hymns  born  on  battle-fields  or  bequeathed  by  the  minne- 
singers— ^^Martin  grew  for  fourteen  years  in  reflective 
wisdom,  and  gained  in  earnest,  persevering  study  all  the 
knowledge  Mansfield  could  yield.  In  1497  his  father, 
self-sacrificing  and  lore-loving,  resolved  to  make  a  well- 
finished  scholar  of  his  son.  Accordingly  he  sent  Martin 
to  Magdeburg,  and  a  year  afterwards  transferred  the 
promising  boy,  who  was  already  attracting  attention 
by  his  thirst  for  knowledge,  his  strong,  independent 
thinking  and  sound  judgment,  to  Eisenach,  where  Wie- 
gand  taught  and  also  good  Trebonius,  who  always  lifted 
his  hat  to  the  boys  of  his  classes.  These  masters  made 
him  a  first-rate  Latinist  and  grammarian,  as  went  the 
times;  and  Frau  Ursula  Cotta  made  him  a  genial,  gentle 
and  home-loving  man,  and,  better  still,  an  earnest  seeker 
of  holiness. 

What  see  I  in  all  these  facts  of  Luther's  boyhood  ? 
The  hand  of  the  Lord.  And  shall  we  not  glorify  him 
who  gave  that  earnest  spirit,  that  curious  mind,  that 
fast-gripping  memory,  that  joyous,  song-filled  heart,  that 
brave,  unconquerable  spirit  to  this  boy ;  who  made  that 
shrewd  father  and  praying  mother  train  religiously  and 
educate  liberally  as  their  means  and  their  day  permitted 
their  pious  and  promising  son ;   who  surrounded  the  lad 


174  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

with  a  vigorous,  self-reliant,  sober  peasantry,  making 
manliness  at  once  easy  and  necessary ;  and  who  raised 
up  friends  and  teachers  wheresoever  young  Martin  went 
whose  lessons  and  love  called  forth  his  large  endow- 
ments of  head  and  heart  and  cultivated  them  rapidly 
and  well  ?  Looking  back  from  those  fierce  battle-hours 
of  Wittenberg  and  Worms,  from  the  solemn  work  of  the 
Wartburg  and  the  crises  of  Augsburg,  Nuremberg  and 
Schmalkald,  upon  these  boyish  years  in  Mansfield  and 
Eisenach,  I  can  imagine  no  better  training  for  Luther's 
life-work ;  and  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  in  that  order- 
ing of  circumstances — glory  be  to  his  name ! 

The  Ardent  Student  of  Erfurt. 

The  scene  has  changed  to  the  capital  of  old  Thuringia, 
to  the  walled  fortress  on  the  broad,  fat  meadows  of  the 
Gera,  with  its  splendid  Gothic  cathedral,  the  church  of 
Severus  and  the  convent  of  the  Ursulines,  to  Erfurt  of 
imperishable  fame,  dearer  far  to  the  lovers  of  truth  and 
gospel  light  and  liberty  than  the  birth-places  of  all  the 
Caesars ;  and  in  this  famous  Erfurt  the  most  famous 
and  fascinating  spot  is  this  orphan  asylum,  for  here  is 
the  Augustinian  monastery  ;  nnd  in  the  thought-stirring 
old  pile,  most  thrilling  to  me,  on  July  17,  1860,  was  a 
little  cell,  then  visible,  with  a  table,  bedstead  and  chair, 
for  it  was  the  cell  which  Luther  entered  upon  the  17th 
of  July,  St.  Alexis  day,  1505,  the  cell  where  he  and 
the  world  were  reborn. 

Waiting  and  thinking  in  that  birth-spot,  now,  alas, 
swept  away  by  fire,  I  felt  how  quietly  God's  revolutions 
arise  !  Rome  in  all  her  pride  is  saying,  "  I  sit  a  queen, 
and  am  no  widow,  and  shall  see  no  sorrow ;"  her  mes- 
sengers come  from  England,  from  Constance,  from  Flor- 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  175 

ence,  with  o;lad  tidings — "  The  whole  earth  is  at  rest 
and  is  qniet,"  for  the  witnesses  are  dead ;  and  the  kings 
of  the  earth  have  given  to  the  woman,  "  drunken  with 
the  blood  of  the  saints  and  with  the  blood  of  the  mar- 
tyrs of  Jesus,  their  power  and  strength." 

He  that  sits  in  the  heavens  laughs  :  he  hath  chosen 
to  confound  the  mighty  Avith  a  weak  thing  in  this  little 
cell !  The  excellency  of  the  power  is  of  God  !  How 
still  and  simple  it  all  is  !  yet  sublime  as  the  quietness 
of  God  !  Yet  here  w^as  really  born  "  the  mighty  man 
whose  light  w^as  to  flame  as  the  beacon  over  long  centu- 
ries and  epochs  of  the  world ;  .  .  .  the  whole  world  and 
its  history  was  waiting  for  this  man.  It  is  strange,  it 
is  great,"  that  out  of  this  quiet  cell  shall  step  forth  "  a 
Christian  Odin — a  right  Thor  once  more  with  his  thun- 
der hammer  to  smite  asunder  ugly  enough  lotuns  and 
giant-monsters." 

As  I  mused  thus  with  the  hero-loving  Carlyle,  the 
present  passed ;  the  pointer  on  the  dial  had  gone  far 
backward — well-nigh  four  centuries — and  I  am  starting 
back  from  something  awful  on  the  floor. 

Who  lies  at  our  feet  on  the  cold  damp  flags  in  that 
death-like  faint  ?  Who  is  he  to  whom  the  Augustinian 
brothers  are  rushing  with  such  anxious  eyes  and  loving 
hearts  ?  Who  slowly  opens  sad,  searching,  sunken  eyes 
at  the  sound  of  the  wise  brothers'  music,  that  "  best 
cordial  for  sorrowful  men"?  Who  holds  with  death- 
grip  that  heavy  folio  Latin  Bible  ?  He  is  the  distin- 
guished student  of  the  most  distinguished  university 
of  northern  Germany,  the  eager  truth-seeker,  the  com- 
panion of  and  chief  among  the  most  brilliant  scholars  of 
the  university ;  the  Eisenach  boy  who  quickly  distin- 
guished himself  in  Latin,  in  philosophy,  in  patristics 


176  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

and  dogmatic  theology,  in  music  and  law  and  oratory, 
and  gained  his  master's  degree  with  highest  honors  after 
severest  tests  when  he  had  been  only  two  years  at  Er- 
furt; he  is  the  pious  and  earnest  soul  who,  finding  one 
day — -just  when  conscience  stung  most  sharply  and  Se- 
bastian Wimman  thundered  over  him  most  loudly  the 
terrors  of  the  law — in  the  university  library  a  Latin 
Bible,  was  brought  face  to  face  with  the  question  of 
questions,  "  How  shall  a  man  be  just  with  God  ?"  and 
who,  knowing  no  better,  quicker,  surer  path  to  peace 
than  in  monastic  life,  fled  to  the  house  of  the  Augus- 
tinian  monks,  and  became  their  hope  and  their  pride  for 
scholarship,  power  of  speech  and  sanctity. 

That  entrance  into  this  Augustinian  monastery,  with 
which  his  independent  and  clear-headed  fjither  ever  dis- 
agreed, was  a  momentous  and  perilous  course  that  had 
started  in  fear  and  been  maintained  through  supersti- 
tion and  ignorance ;  but  the  hand  of  the  Lord  Avas  in 
it,  and  so  Luther  in  the  clearer  light  of  after  days 
plainly  said  and  thankfully  stated. 

There  of  necessity  he  came  into  contact  with  Augus- 
tinian theology,  preparing  Luther  to  sit  at  Paul's  feet ; 
there  he  came  under  the  comforting  ministry  of  old 
Mathesius,  who  one  day,  pointing  to  the  clause  in  the 
creed,  "  I  believe  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins,"  commanded 
him  to  hope  ;  there  he  gained  fuller  light  under  the  sweet 
instruction  of  his  teacher  Arnold ;  there  he  was  reached 
by  the  suggestive  thinking  of  the  English  Occam,  blessed 
through  the  influences  of  Tauler,  cheered  through  the 
enlightening  words  of  the  "  German  Sermons  "  and  of  the 
Mystics  ;  there,  too,  he  received  the  hitherto  unsupplied, 
but  most  needful,  instruction  in  Greek  and  Hebrew  from 
his  friends  Johann  Lange  and  Wenceslaus  Linz.     But 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  177 

in  that  old  monastery,  where  at  the  risk  of  his  life  he 
Avas  ardently  seeking  perfect  peace  of  conscience  and 
the  richest  stores  of  knowledge,  he  won  these  three 
things,  for  him  and  his  work  the  chiefest  of  all :  the 
friendship  of  Stanpitz,  vicar-general  of  Germany ;  the 
calm  leisure  to  study  God's  word  till  it  lived  in  his 
heart  and  memory ;  and  the  peace  of  God  passing  all 
understanding. 

Through  the  favor  and  patronage  of  Staupitz,  Martin 
Luther  became  known  to  professors  at  Wittenberg  and 
prelates  in  northern  Germany  as  the  finest  theologian 
and  biblical  scholar  of  his  time ;  was  made  at  twenty- 
five  years  of  age  professor  of  philosophy  and  theology 
in  Wittenberg ;  was  created  district-vicar  for  Mussen 
and  Thuringia,  and  advanced  to  the  city  pastorate  of 
Wittenberg  in  February,  1517.  God's  hand  is  seen  in 
it  all :  that  lonely  soul-fight  ends  in  the  peace  of  God ; 
that  monastic  study  made  him  mighty  in  the  Scripture  ; 
his  university  professorship  rounded  his  scholarship 
and  made  him  the  wonder  and  the  trusted  friend  of  the 
young  students  of  his  day,  who  afterwards  cheered  and 
rallied  about  him ;  the  support  of  Staupitz  gave  him 
chair  and  pulpit ;  and  thus  when  the  monk  of  Erfurt, 
only  twenty-five,  stripped  for  his  determined  fight  with 
Rome,  he  was  a  trained  athlete  and  a  recognized  victor. 
"Commit  thy  way  unto  the  Lord;  trust  also  in  him, 
and  he  shall  bring  it  to  pass." 

The  Lord  has  ever  used  weak  things  to  confound  the 
mighty,  but  never  weaklings.  Run  down  the  line  and 
see  the  men  of  God — Paul  and  John,  Clement  and  Poly- 
carp,  Athanasius  and  Augustine,  Patrick  and  Columba, 
Wycliffe  and  Huss,  Luther  and  Melancthon,  Calvin  and 
Zwinffle,  Knox  and  Melville.     The  Church  needs  first 


178  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

for  her  work  saved  men,  spirit-born,  Christ-loving, 
Christ-like  soul-seekers ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  the 
work  of  the  Church  and  the  wants  of  the  world  de- 
mand, in  the  second  place,  that  these  men  should  be 
scholars  and  students  and  thinkers,  "  giving  themselves 
to  reading." 

Martin  Luther,  busy  among  the  busiest,  gives  himself 
to  reading.  God  gave  him  the  opportunities,  the  mind, 
the  zeal ;  and  we  glorify  God  in  that  ardent  student  of 
Erfurt,  who  so  mastered  his  mother  tongue  that  he  re- 
made it  and  fixed  its  sonorous,  flexible  speech  and  facile 
fullness ;  who  so  cultivated  Latin  and  Greek  and  He- 
brew that  he  made  the  German  Bible  speak  the  loving 
message  of  the  loving  Master  ;  who  so  practiced  the  art 
of  simple,  idiomatic  writing  that  he  filled  heart  and 
head  at  once ;  who  so  cultivated  popular  and  robust 
speech  that  "his  words  are  half  battles,"  and  so  gave 
himself  to  music  that  his  hymns  and  chorals  ring  and 
thrill  like  the  songs  of  the  redeemed  and  the  chorus 
of  angelic  choirs. 

God's  man  is  ready  for  the  struggle,  and  God's  mo- 
ment strikes. 

The  God-FearIx\g  Reformer  of  Wittenberg. 

"  The  monk  Tetzel,  sent  out  carelessly  in  the  way  of 
trade  by  Leo  the  Tenth — the  elegant  pagan  pope — who 
merely  wanted  to  raise  a  little  money,"  has  come  to  Wit- 
tenberg and  is  selling  his  indulgences.  "  Come  forward," 
"  forward  " — "  a  soul  out  of  purgatory  for  a  dollar." 

Thousands  come  forward  and  buy.  One  man,  one 
lone  man,  a  (juiet,  peaceable  recluse,  a  wasted  student, 
a  poor  monk,  comes  forward — not  to  buy,  but  to  say, 
"  You  are  a  lie ;  your  pardons  are  no  pardons  at  all,  no 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  179 

letters  of  credit  on  heaven,  but  flash-notes  of  the  bank 
of  humbug,  and  you  know  it."  And  that  one  man,  to 
use  again  Froude's  words,  of  bravery,  honesty  and  ve- 
racity, is  the  monk  of  Erfurt. 

The  afternoon  of  the  31st  of  October,  1517,  the  eve 
of  the  festival  of  All  Saints,  has  come,  and  a  little  group 
wonderingly  Avatches  an  Augustinian  monk  with  the 
doctor's  hood,  a  man  of  medium  size,  whose  bones  can 
be  counted  through  his  habit,  as  standing  on  the  upper 
door-step  of  the  Castle  Church  he  nails  with  wasted  but 
firm  hand  a  long  sheet  of  Latin  sentences  to  the  door. 
It  is  Martin  Luther  fixing  the  gauntlet  of  Christ's  truth 
to  Rome's  gates  and  challenging  her  to  battle  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord.  In  that  act  he  takes  his  place  side 
by  side  with  Peter  and  John  and  Paul,  with  Polycarp 
and  Athanasius,  with  Huss  in  Prague,  Savonarola  in 
Florence,  and  Knox  in  the  court  of  Scotland  and  at 
Edinburgh. 

All  the  issues  of  that  act  Martin  saw  not :  we  never 
do  see  the  remotest  and  greatest  results  of  our  acts. 
One  thing  he  saw,  that  Tetzel  was  a  devilish  seducer, 
and  that  the  vaunted  indulgences,  peddled  by  him  under 
the  bull  of  Leo  the  Tenth  for  the  completion  of  Saint 
Peter's,  was  a  quick  path  for  souls  to  hell,  and  that  if 
possible  he  at  least  must  bar  the  way.  It  is  the  birth- 
hour  of  the  modern  world.  How  quietly,  unpretend- 
ingly, it  comes  !  The  fight  of  emancipation  has  begun, 
but  begins  on  a  side  issue,  as  all  decisive  fights  open, 
whether  in  Church  or  State. 

In  fourteen  days  those  quaint-sounding  scholastic 
words  have  been  changed  into  "  smiting  idiomatic 
phrases"  for  German,  French  and  Italian  princes  and 
peasants,  into  terse  English,  and  soon  into  every  patois 


180  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

of  Europe ;  and  the  papal  world  is  convulsed.  The  war 
of  the  faith  has  opened.  The  spiritual  breaker-up  of 
the  way  is  at  the  head  of  the  host.  God's  teaching  of 
the  man  himself  is  tlie  monk's  text  in  these  theses  ;  and 
it  is  clearly  stated  in  one  of  the  sentences,  "  If  a  man 
experiences  genuine  sorrow  for  sin  he  receives  full  re- 
mission from  penalty  and  guilt  without  any  letter  of 
indulgence."  One  other  memorable  sentence,  "  Even 
the  pope  can  remit  the  guilt  of  the  penitent  only  so  far 
as  the  declaration  of  God's  terms  of  remission." 

In  those  two  sentences,  the  first  bringing  the  personal 
conscience  into  direct  contact  with  God  and  the  second 
defining  and  so  limiting  papal  and  ministerial  power,  are 
the  beginnings  of  the  Reformation. 

Yes,  only  the  beginnings  ;  for  though  Luther  had  been 
to  Rome,  had  been  electrified  at  the  Sancta  Scala  by  the 
Spirit-voice,  "  The  just  shall  live  by  faith,"  and  had  been 
horrified  by  the  villainies  of  the  Vatican,  and  was  now 
blazing  with  the  fires  of  a  holy  hatred  of  Tetzel  and 
his  ways,  he  had  to  dispute  with  Tetzel  and  the  Domin- 
icans, with  Sylvester  Prierias,  with  Cajetan  at  Augs- 
burg, with  the  papal  chamberlain  Karl  von  Miltitz  at 
Altenburg,  and  fiercest,  keenest,  most  momentous  con- 
test of  aJl,  with  Eck  at  Augsburg,  ere  he  reached  the 
marrow  of  the  gospel,  "  that  a  Christian  secures  forgive- 
ness of  endless  guilt,  reconciliation  with  God,  righteous- 
ness before  God,  peace  and  salvation  by  means  of  a 
cordial  reliance  upon  the  grace  of  God  as  revealed  in 
the  gospel,  and  upon  the  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 

Now  he  had  reached  his  theme  and  his  task ;  and  God 
gave  him  a  mouth  and  wisdom  which  papal  legates,  and 
time-serving  souls  like  Eck,  and  selfish  cowards  like 
Erasmus,  could  not  gainsay  or  resist,  as  well  as  a  heroic 


THE    MAN   OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  181 

might  that  bore  him  on  to  victory.  Martin  Luther  was 
a  many-sided  man.  You  touch  in  him  the  many  sides 
of  this  grand  revolution,  the  manifold  and  fruitful  Ref- 
ormation. But  one  thing  above  all  else  he  did  :  he  re- 
placed the  lonely  Saviour  in  the  midst  of  dying  sinners 
and  said,  "  Look  and  live  !" 

As  brave-hearted,  reunited  Germany  made  by  the 
sword  of  her  strength  space  beside  the  Rhine  for  the 
lonely  commanding  "  Germania"  to  be  the  rallying-point 
and  inspiration  of  the  Fatherland,  so  this  lion-like  hero 
of  the  Reformation,  by  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  placed 
in  clear  light  and  in  broad  space,  lonely  and  command- 
ing, yet  attractive,  the  sweet  and  sublime  form  of  apos- 
tolic Christianity  beside  the  broad,  full  river  of  life  ;  and 
ever  since  Christ's  one  perfect  sacrifice,  the  open  way 
of  faith,  the  waiting,  welcoming  Saviour,  the  open 
heaven,  tliis  grace  of  God  justifying  all  who  believe 
in  Christ,  have  proved  the  rallying-point  and  the  in- 
spiration of  the  multiplying  hosts  of  the  faith  of  God's 
elect. 

If  one  thing  more  than  another  rises  up  clear,  central, 
commanding,  consoling,  in  the  reformer's  field' of  words 
and  works,  it  is  the  Christ  of  the  cross.  Stand  back ; 
let  him  be  seen  to-day  alone — mighty  to  save  to  the 
uttermost  all  who  come.  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  who 
taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  Look  unto  him, 
sinner,  and  be  saved.  Contemplate  him,  holy  brethren, 
and  grow  like  him.  Not  church,  nor  priest,  nor  ritual ; 
not  Bible,  nor  baptism,  nor  supper ;  nothing  but  Christ, 
the  lonely,  almighty  Christ,  can  do  helpless  sinners  good. 
Oh,  solitary,  seeking,  saving  Son  of  God,  thou  art  the 
Saviour  of  the  sinner,  the  sanctifier  of  the  saint,  the 
satisfaction  of  the  saved  forever !     This   Christ  Luther 


182  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

proclaimed  to  rich  and  poor,  to  the  students  of  the  uni- 
versity and  tlie  masses  of  the  markets. 

The  Popular  Preacher  of  Northern  Germany. 

Away  I  must  turn  from  such  tempting  and  thrilling 
themes  as  Luther's  fearless  march  to  Worms  and  his 
unquailing  daring  before  the  imperial  and  papal  court, 
from  his  seemingly  hostile  arrest  and  his  kindly  pro- 
tective imprisonment  in  the  Wartburg,  from  his  trans- 
lation of  the  Bible  and  his  companionship  with  Melanc- 
thon,  from  his  sudden  and  secret  return  in  1522  to 
Wittenberg,  from  the  part  played  by  him  during  the 
Peasants'  War,  from  his  marriage,  June  13,  1525,  with 
Katharine  von  Bora,  from  the  grand  public  protest  of 
Spires,  April  19,  152G,  from  the  famous  Marburg  con- 
ference and  the  Augsburg  diet,  and  the  thousand  activ- 
ities filling  up  the  great  worker's  life,  to  speak  of  the 
last  grand  phase  of  his  reform  work,  the  preaching  of 
the  word.  All  the  reformers  were  the  preachers  of  great 
sermons,  solid  with  doctrine,  full  of  well-digested  thought 
and  close,  cogent  reasoning.  Huss  in  Prague,  Savon- 
arola in  Florence,  Calvin  in  Geneva,  Knox  in  Edinburgh 
and  Latimer  in  London  so  preached ;  and  Luther  in 
Wittenberg  and  in  Borna,  Altenberg,  Zwickau,  Eulen- 
berg,  Weimar,  through  Saxony  and  many  districts  of 
northern  Germany,  was  no  exception.  He  was  indeed 
a  mighty  preacher.  When  he  could  not  in  person  pro- 
claim the  gospel  he  sent  out  his  letters,  so  that  from 
England  to  Russia  his  truth  spread  and  his  words  stirred 
or  strengthened  life. 

Every  inch  a  man,  an  accurate  student  of  philosophy 
and  ethics,  an  educated  lawyer,  a  telling  biblical  ex- 
positor, a  well-trained,  though  not  exactly  systematic, 


THE    MAN   OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  183 

theologian,  a  close,  conservative  thinker,  a  skilled  rhet- 
orician, a  fiery-tongued  orator,  poetic  and  pictorial,  the 
common  people  heard  him  gladly,  and  strong-brained 
men  were  taxed  to  the  utmost  by  his  profound  think- 
ing. 

He  was  a  man  among  men — as  one  called  him,  "  der 
erste  Bursch  der  Burschen,"  the  biggest  boy  of  all  boys  ; 
he  loved  the  children ;  he  knew  the  plays  of  youth,  the 
struggles  of  the  market-place,  the  doubts  of  the  thought- 
ful, the  sorrows  of  the  bereaved,  the  household  feasts 
and  joys  and  tears,  and  his  country's  need,  and.  Paul- 
like, he  became  all  things  to  all  men  to  win  them  for 
Christ. 

Thus  preaching,  translating,  expounding — thus  writ- 
ing hymns  and  composing  tunes — thus  planting  schools 
and  fostering  colleges — thus  fighting  the  papacy  and 
denouncing  despotism-^for  twenty  years  more  on  went 
the  genial,  generous,  great-hearted  man.  Grace  marked 
all  his  years,  and  God  upheld  him  through  life's  battle, 
nor  failed  him  when  smitten  fatally  he  lay  down  to  die 
in  the  little  town  where  he  was  born,  baptized  and  con- 
secrated to  God. 

Half-past  two  has  struck  on  Thursday  morning,  the 
IStli  of  February,  1546  ;  round  the  dying  saint  stand 
his  boys,  Martin  and  Paul,  with  Coleus  and  Justus  Jonas, 
his  loving  friend  ;  three  times  this  sinner  saved  b}^  grace 
says,  "  God  so  loved  the  Avorld  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son ;"  three  times  the  sou  going  home  says, 
"  Father,  into  thy  hand  I  commend  my  spirit," — then 
sleeps,  then  wakes,  then  draws  one  deep,  gentle  breath, 
and  Christ  crowns  the  conqueror. 

What  do  we  as  Christian  patriots  and  as  churchmen 
recognize  in  this  Man  of  the  Emancipation?     We  see, 


184  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

first,  the  living  centre  of  the  long  line  of  light.  The 
witnesses  have  been  often  slain,  but  they  have  never 
failed.  They  stretch  from  Christ,  the  faithful  and 
true  Witness,  down  through  the  thunderous  and  tu- 
multuous centuries,  a  line  of  hallowed  heroes,  who  stand 
fast  and  quit  them  like  men.  And  the  great  Centre, 
the  living  link  binding  the  souls  of  truth  together,  is 
this  stalwart  Saxon,  genial  and  godly  Luther.  He  was 
not  the  only  reformer,  he  was  not  the  first  reformer,  he 
was  not  the  reformer  who  in  all  gifts  surpassed  all 
others  ;  but  he  was  of  the  yoke-breakers  the  most  truly 
central,  the  most  largely  comprehensive,  the  most  vari- 
ously influential.  As  Paul  stood  in  the  apostolate,  so 
to  a  great  degree  stood  Luther  among  the  apostles  of 
the  Reformation.  Paul  in  himself  carried  the  old  over 
into  the  new,  made  the  true,  the  essential,  the  divine 
of  the  past  dispensation  take  its  place  and  reappear, 
grow  active  and  become  fertile  in  the  new  :  Paul  was 
not  John,  nor  Peter,  nor  James,  but  he  had  much  of 
each  of  the  "  pillar-apostles  :"  Paul  was  the  most  largely 
human  of  that  unique  band.  And  in  Martin  Luther  I 
see  the  resurrection  and  reappearance  of  Augustine,  of 
the  grand  old  British  missionary,  of  Aquinas  and  the 
philosophical  theologians,  pioneers  of  free  thought — of 
Wyclilfe  and  the  early  and  later  schools  of  Oxford  re- 
formers, of  Huss  and  Jerome,  of  Savonarola  and  the 
Bohemians  :  in  him  I  see  the  man  who  comprehended 
in  his  own  large  self  something  of  the  men  of  Geneva 
and  of  Zurich,  of  the  men  of  Rotterdam  and  of  Basle, 
of  Edinburgh  and  of  London  :  in  him  I  see  the  man  who 
has  touched  broad,  everyday  life  at  most  points,  and 
each  point  touched  became  a  fountain.  Like  mountain- 
lake,  receiving  and  guarding  the  upper  waters  and  sup- 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  185 

plying  the  lower  streams,  Martin  Luther  saved  the 
waters  of  the  old  springs  and  poured  forth  a  full,  fresh 
flood  into  the  fields  of  the  reformed  Church. 

Again,  we  see  in  this  stalwart  soldier,  shouting  out 
afresh  the  old  battle-cries  of  insulted  Wycliflfe  and  mur- 
dered Huss,  the  anointed  yoke-breaker  who  freed  his 
land,  and  thus  other  lands,  from  the  intolerable  bondage 
of  the  papal  supremacy.  That  burning  of  the  papal  bull 
by  Luther  on  the  10th  of  December,  1520,  was  a  world- 
turning  deed.  That  solemn  march  of  Martin  with  his 
fellow  doctors,  the  fire-faced  students,  and  the  vast 
crowds,  stirred  to  their  soul-depths  and  yet  silent  in 
awe,  down  to  the  Elster  gate,  out  from  the  city  walls, 
to  the  river  meadows,  that  prepared  pile,  and  that  reso- 
lute, defiant  burning  by  one  hot-hearted,  fearless,  revo- 
lutionary monk,  amid  the  cheers  of  the  crowd  and  be- 
neath the  eyes  of  Europe,  was  verily  all  that  timid, 
self-loving  Erasmus  said — "  the  beginning  of  a  universal 
revolution.  Now  I  see  no  end  of  it  but  the  turning 
upside  down  of  the  whole  world.  .  .  .  When  I  was  at 
Cologne,  I  made  every  effort  that  Luther  might  have 
the  glory  of  obedience  and  the  pope  of  clemency,  and 
some  of  the  sovereigns  approved  this  advice.  But  lo ! 
and  behold,  the  burning  of  the  decretals,  the  '  Babylon- 
ish captivity ;'  those  propositions  of  Luther,  so  much 
stronger  than  they  need  be,  have  made  the  evil  appar- 
ently incurable."  Yes,  thank  God  !  the  "  universal 
revolution"  then  began,  freeing  Germans,  Swiss,  Hol- 
landers and  Britons  from  that  dreadful  despotism  of  the 
Vatican  by  which  kings  were  deposed  at  the  pleasure 
of  tyrants  like  Gregory  and  Leo,  or  of  scoundrels  like 
Alexander  Borgia  and  Balthasar  Cossa,  whole  nations 
plunged  into  storm  and  strife,  lands  deluged  with  blood, 

13 


186  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

dragged  like  tlie  miserable  subjects  of  Henry  the  Third 
into  foreign  wars,  cursed  with  the  fell  anathemas,  and 
laid  under  the  frightful  "  interdict."  To-day  we  have 
little  idea  of  the  terrible  thralldom  once  endured  beneath 
the  iron  rule  of  Rome.  Hear  how  the  cold-blooded 
Hume  speaks  of  the  interdict :  "  The  execution  of  the 
sentence  of  interdict  was  calculated  to  excite  the  senses 
in  the  highest  degree,  and  to  operate  with  irresistible 
force  on  the  superstitious  minds  of  the  people.  The 
nation  was  of  a  sudden  deprived  of  all  exterior  exercise 
of  its  religion.  The  altars  were  despoiled  of  their  orna- 
ments ;  the  crosses,  the  relics,  the  images,  the  statues 
of  the  saints,  were  laid  on  the  ground  ;  and  as  if  the  air 
itself  were  profaned  and  might  pollute  them  by  its  con- 
tact, the  priests  carefully  covered  them  up  even  from 
their  own  approach  and  veneration.  The  use  of  bells 
entirely  ceased.  .  .  .  The  dead  were  not  interred  in 
consecrated  ground ;  they  were  thrown  into  ditches  or 
buried  in  common  fields,  and  their  obsequies  were  not 
attended  with  prayers  or  any  hallowed  ceremony. 
Marriage  was  celebrated  in  the  churchyards.  .  .  . 
People  were  debarred  from  all  pleasures  and  entertain- 
ments, and  were  forbidden  even  to  salute  each  other,  or 
so  much  as  to  shave  their  beards,  and  give  any  decent 
attention  to  their  person  and  apparel.  Every  circum- 
stance carried  symptoms  of  the  deepest  distress  and  of 
the  most  immediate  apprehension  of  the  divine  venge- 
ance and  indignation."  This  Roman  yoke  was  broken 
in  "  the  revolution." 

We  see  in  this  bold  revolutionary  one  of  God's  chief- 
est  instruments  in  disenchaining  the  minds  of  men. 
Robertson  says  :  "  Luther  was  raised  by  Providence  to 
be  the  author  of  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  interesting 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  187 

revolutions  recorded  in  history.  ...  To  rouse  mankind 
when  sunk  in  ignorance  or  superstition,  and  to  encounter 
the  rage  of  bigotry  armed  with  power,  required  the  ut- 
most A^ehemence  of  zeal,  as  well  as  a  temper  daring  to 
excess."  All  students  know  how  the  German  mind  has 
stirred  and  now  stirs  the  mind  of  the  world.  Martin 
Luther  w^as  the  mover  of  these  moving  minds.  After 
the  edict  of  the  Diet  of  Spires  in  1526,  Saxony,  led  by 
Luther  and  leading  other  Protestant  states,  abolished 
monasteries  and  nunneries,  released  their  members  to 
teach  and  preach,  and  devoted  their  revenues  to  the 
purposes  of  education.  The  effect  w^as  immediate  and 
immense.  To  aid  and  accelerate  the  movement  came 
the  German  sermon,  the  German  Bible  and  the  German 
hymn.  The  school  and  the  song  were  everywhere  in 
the  "  Luther-land,"  and  mind  was  free.  Thus  was  it 
likewise  in  every  reformed  state.  Is  it  any  wonder, 
then,  that  even  the  humanitarian  Frederick  von  Schlegel 
should  say,  "  The  Reformation  was  unquestionably  a 
mighty,  extraordinary  and  momentous  revolution  which 
has  in  chiefest  part  directed  the  march  of  modern  times, 
influenced  the  legislation  and  policy  of  European  states, 
and  stamped  the  character  of  modern  science  down  to 
our  own  days"?  Luther  placed  the  pope  and  Rome  and 
the  traditions  of  the  elders  before  the  jury  of  the  world's 
thought :  he  made  his  charge,  he  pleaded  his  cause,  and 
challenged  a  verdict, — judge  ye  !  Free  inquiry  became 
the  right  and  the  duty,  yet  the  necessity,  not  of  the 
few  but  of  the  many,  not  of  the  priest  but  of  the  people, 
not  of  the  learned  but  of  all  responsible  men. 

To-day  it  is  of  the  vastest  importance  to  emphasize 
this  fact  that  knowledge,  free  thought,  advancing  sci- 
ence, are  the  noble  children  of  this  holy  revolution.    The 


188  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

attempt  is  made  to  sever  free  thought  and  full  faith. 
It  is  a  foolish  and  foul  deed — this  robbing  of  the  mother 
of  her  children.  Even  Buckle  says,  "  In  the  sixteenth 
century  the  credulity  of  men  and  their  ignorance,  though 
still  considerable,  were  rapidly  diminishing,  and  it  was 
found  necessary  to  organize  a  religion  suited  to  their 
altered  circumstances — a  religion  more  favorable  to  free 
inquiry.  .  .  .  All  this  was  done  by  the  establishment 
of  Protestantism."  And  in  more  sympathetic  and  elo- 
quent words  the  great  Robert  Hall  declares,  "  The 
Reformation  was  the  great  instrument  in  undermining 
and  demolishing  that  long-established  system  of  intel- 
lectual despotism  and  degradation.  Under  the  light 
diffused  by  the  reformers,  men  awoke  from  the  trance 
of  ignorance  and  infatuation  in  which  they  had  slept  for 
ages.  They  felt  those  energies  of  thought  and  reason 
which  had  been  so  long  disused.  They  began  to  inves- 
tigate truth  for  themselves  ;  they  started  to  that  career 
of  genius  and  science  which  has  ever  since  been  advanc- 
ing. Had  this  been  the  only  benetit  which  it  produced, 
the  Protestant  Reformation  would  deserve  to  be  num- 
bered amongst  the  noblest  achievements  of  mental 
energy.  Viewing  it  in  this  light,  even  infidels  have 
applauded  Luther  and  his  associates."  Yes !  that 
reformation-day  was  the  spark  of  a  glorious  revolution  : 
thought  was  freed  from  the  fetters,  the  understanding 
was  emancipated,  and  man  became  God's  "  interpreter 
of  nature"  once  again  :  and  the  centre  of  that  liberation 
movement  were  the  reformers,  with  the  great  Saxon  at 
their  head.  Thank  God  for  the  great  yoke-breaker  ! — 
he  belongs  to  us  all !  and  we  rejoice  in  him,  and  honor 
him  as  freely  and  fully  as  German  or  Lutheran ! 

And  finally  we  see  in  him  the  anointed  champion 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  189 

who  gave  freedom  of  conscience,  of  worship  and  of 
home.  The  monk  of  Erfurt  and  student  of  the  old 
Latin  Bible  knew  the  bliss  of  a  free  conscience  and  an 
open  Bible ;  and  he  placed  the  lonely  soul  in  its  own 
awful,  personal  responsibility  face  to  face  with  the  per- 
sonal God  and  the  incarnate  Saviour,  and  gave  them  the 
record  of  life  in  simple  speech  to  guide  the  sinner  to 
peace  and  the  saint  to  glory.  Blessed  freedom  !  The 
one  High-priest  he  showed,  and  called  men  to  free 
churches  where  in  their  own  tongue  they  heard  the 
wonderful  works  of  God,  listened  to  "all  the  words  of 
this  life"  told  in  their  own  home-speech,  sang  the  trans- 
lated psalm  and  the  German  chorals  or  hymns,  and 
worshipped  the  living  God  directly  and  in  their  own 
way.  Blow  the  great  trumpet !  the  Lord's  jubilee  has 
come.  And  the  home  ! — oh  sweet  emancipation  !  dear 
Martin !  lover  of  childhood,  singer  for  the  infants, 
weeper  over  the  "  wee  dead ;"  true-hearted  husband, 
writer  of  the  merry  letters  home — thou  wilt  free  the 
home  from  the  yoke  of  the  confessional,  and  save  our 
wives  and  daughters  from  that  despotism  and  degra- 
dation ! 

Yes !  as  we  look  at  the  chains  snapped  asunder,  at 
our  deliverance  from  priest  and  pope,  at  our  large  place 
of  liberty,  at  the  open  and  full  charter  of  our  free- 
dom in  this  unchained,  open  Bible ;  at  our  free  altars, 
churches  and  homes — we  will  remember  the  Man  of  the 
Emancipation,  whom  God  made  to  stand  strong;  and 
we  will  glorify  God  in  him ! 

"  Still  echo  in  the  hearts  of  men 

The  words  that  thou  hast  spoken  ; 
No  forge  of  hell  can  weld  again 
The  fetters  thou  hast  broken." 


190  MARTIN    LUTHER, 

"  Friend  of  the  slave  !  and  yet  the  friend  of  all ; 
Lover  of  peace,  yet  ever  foremost  when 
The  need  of  battling  freedom  called  for  men 

To  plant  the  banner  on  the  outer  wall ; 

Gentle  and  kindly,  ever  at  distress 

Melted  to  more  than  woman's  tenderness, 

Yet  firm  and  steadfast,  at  his  duty's  post 

Fronting  the  violence  of  a  maddened  host, 

Like  some  gray  rock  from  which  the  waves  are  tossed  !"' 

Thus  he  lived  "  a  true  «and  brave  and  downright 
honest  man ;"  and  thus  he  died  : — "  Ueverend  father, 
wilt  thou  stand  by  Christ  and  the  doctrine  thou  hast 
preached  ?" — he  uttered  an  audible  "  Yes  !"  "  Through- 
out the  whole  evangelical  Church  arose  a  cry  of  lamen- 
tation. Luther  was  mourned  as  a  prophet  of  Germany 
— as  an  Elijah  who  had  overthrown  the  worship  of 
idols  and  set  up  again  the  pure  word  of  God.  Like 
Elisha  to  Elijah,  so  Melancthon  called  out  after  him, 
'  Alas !  the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horsemen  there- 
of!'" 

He  died,  yet  lives.  Luther,  the  child  of  the  long 
past,  the  father  of  the  fertile  future — reformer  of  the 
reformers,  as  Spenser  and  Keats  are  the  poets  of  poets 
— the  head  of  the  column,  with  Calvin,  his  superior  in 
subtle  analysis  and  exact  system,  on  the  one  side,  and 
Knox,  his  superior  in  administrative  statesmanship  and 
political  daring,  on  the  other,  himself  chiefest  of  the  three 
mighties,  with  loving  Melancthon,  dashing  Zwingle,  fjir- 
seeing  Farel,  hesitating  Cranmer,  dauntless  Hamilton 
and  stout  Hugh  Latimer  behind  him — thank  God  for 
the  brave,  blunt,  bold  son  of  reality — hero  of  the  faith- 
fight  and  inspiration  of  the  brave,  with  spirit  independ- 
ent yet  humble,  conservative  yet  radical,  critical  yet 
believing  and  reverent,  whose  method  was  search  the 
Scriptures,  submit  only  to  Scripture  and  spread  these 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    EMANCIPATION.  191 

Scriptures,  whose  aim  was  to  bring  the  man  and  the 
mind  to  the  light  and  liberty  and  life  of  the  gospel. 
Great  man  of  God,  we  honor  thee  and  glorify  thy 
Maker ! 

Great  man  of  the  centuries  !  in  whom,  as  Carlyle  says, 
were  present  "  English  Puritanism,  England  and  its 
Parliament,  America's  vast  work  these  two  centuries ; 
French  Revolution,  Europe  and  its  work  everywhere 
at  present,"  we  will  honor  thee  and  glorify  God  in 
thee,  for  clearer  than  the  hand  of  the  Caesars,  or  of  Con- 
stantine,  or  of  Charlemagne,  we  see  thy  hand,  more 
commanding  thy  position,  more  controlling  thy  influ- 
ence ! 

''  True  great  man — great  in  intellect,  in  courage,  in 
affection  and  integrity,  one  of  our  most  lovable  and 
precious  men !  Great,  not  as  a  hewn  obelisk,  but  as  an 
Alpine  mountain ;  so  simple,  honest,  spontaneous,  not 
setting  up  to  be  great  at  all,  there  for  quite  another  pur- 
pose than  being  great.  Ah,  yes,  unsubduable  granite, 
piercing  far  and  wide  into  the  heavens,  yet  in  the  clefts 
of  it  fountains,  green,  beautiful  valleys  with  flowers." 

"  Rest,  high-souled  Witness  !     Nothing  here 

Could  be  for  thee  a  meet  reward ; 
Thine  is  a  treasure  far  more  dear, — 
Eye  hath  not  seen  it,  nor  the  ear 

Of  living-  mortal  heard 
The  joys  prepared — the  promised  bliss  above, — 
The  holy  presence  of  Eternal  Love. 

"  Sleep  on  in  peace.     The  earth  has  not 

A  nobler  name  than  thine  shall  be  •, 
The  deeds  by  martial  manhood  wrought, 
The  lofty  energies  of  thought, 

The  fire  of  poesy, — 
These  have  but  frail  and  fading  honors :   thine 
Shall  time  unto  eternity  consign. 


192  MARTIN    LUTHER. 

"And  when  thrones  shall  crumble  down, 
And  human  pride  and  grandeur  fall, 
The  herald's  line  of  long  renown, — 
The  mitre  and  the  kingly  crown, — 

Perishing  glories  all ! — 
The  pure  devotion  of  thy  glowing  heart 
Shall  live  in  heaven,  of  which  it  was  a  part." 


PATRICK  HAMILTON, 


"The  tale  is  one  of  distant  skies; 
The  dust  of  many  a  century  lies 
Upon  it ;   yet  its  hero's  name 
Still  lingers  on  the  lips  of  fame. 

"God  mend  his  heart  who  cannot  feel 
The  impulse  of  a  holy  zeal, 
And  sees  not,  with  his  sordid  eyes, 
The  beauty  of  self-sacrifice." 


AUTHOEITIES  CONSULTED. 


Knox's  History  (Laing's  edition)  ;  Calderwood  ;  Hetherington  ;  D'Au- 
bignfe  ;  Life  of  Lambert ;  McCrie  ;  Lorimer  ;  various  articles  regarding 
St.  Andrews;  Johnson's  Tragedy  of  Hamilton;  and  monographs  in 
Scotch  reviews  and  in  cyclopaedias. 


PATRICK  HAMILTON, 

THE  PRINCELY  PIONEER  OF  SCOTTISH  PRESBY- 
TERIANISM. 


"  Be    THOr    FAITHFUL    UNTO    DEATH,   AND    I    WILL    GIVE    THEE   A    CROWN    OF 

LIFE.'" — Revelation  ii.  10. 

"  Men  who  have  a  real,  genuine  belief  in  God,  men 
to  whom  God  is  not  a  name  but  an  awful  reality  ever 
present,  think  naturally  before  all  things  how  they  best 
can  please  him;  how  they  can  make  his  law  the  law 
of  their  own  existence.  .  .  .  The  true  nature  of  human 
existence,  the  tremendous  responsibilities  of  it,  the 
majesty  and  purity  of  God  and  the  assurance  of  his 
judgment,  came  home  as  they  had  never  done  before  to 
the  hearts  of  those  whose  eyes  were  opened.  .  .  ,  They 
modelled  themselves  after  the  highest  conceptions  of 
duty  which  they  were  able  to  form.  .  .  .  They  would 
have  no  lies  either  taught  or  suggested  in  God's  house, 
whatever  might  be  done  elsewhere.  If  the  creed  were 
true,  no  tone  of  voice  could  be  too  plain  and  simple  in 
repeating  facts  of  such  infinite  importance." 

These  memorable  sentences  from  two  most  memorable 
essays  of  James  Anthony  Froude  on  "  The  Pv^evival  of 
Romanism  "  and  "  The  Oxford  Counter-Reformation  " 
set  before  us  prominently,  pre-eminently  and  suggest- 
ively the  Scottish  reformers  and  their  work — work  so 
near  and  so  dear  to  us.     And  righteously  so  dear  if  it 


196  PATRICK    HAMILTON, 

be  true,  as  Ranke  has  said,  that  John  Calvin  was  virtually 
the  founder  of  America.  Who  can  fairly  challenge  that 
broad  statement  if  he  faces  the  historic  fact  that  Eng- 
lish Puritanism  and  Scottish  Presbyterianism  have  told 
most  decisively  on  the  form  and  destiny  of  this  land  ? 
Now  English  Puritanism  is  linked  by  the  closest  ties 
to  the  Scotch  Reformation,  and  the  grand  revolt  in  Scot- 
land may  not  be  separated  from  John  Knox,  and  Knox 
leads  you  at  once  to  John  Calvin. 

But  quickly  start  the  questions,  what  is  the  ecclesi- 
astical descent  of  the  father  of  the  sturdy  Church  of  the 
Covenant,  how  did  the  sacred  fire  reach  him,  who  put 
the  great  fiery  cross  into  his  iron  grasp,  whence  the  influ- 
ences that  made  Scotland  ready,  as  the  plastic  clay,  for 
the  touch  of  Knox's  Spirit-guided  hand,  how  did  the 
Reformation  reach  Caledonia  stern  and  wild,  who  linked 
the  heath-clad  hills  of  Scotia  and  the  pine-guarded 
heights  of  Saxony,  who  made  the  thunders  of  Witten- 
berg waken  the  echoes  of  the  great  cathedral  halls  on 
the  heights  of  sea-washed  St.  Andrews,  who  breached 
the  walls  of  that  defiant  papal  stronghold,  who  like 
Huss  in  Bohemia  and  Savonarola  in  Italy  was  the  death- 
marked  leader  of  the  seeming  forlorn  hope  in  Scotland  ? 
Stirring  questions  that  make  a  true  man's  blood  course 
hot  and  fast !  And  now  as  we  have  studied  the  mar- 
tyr's monument  in  North  Street  of  this  ancient  and 
royal  borough  of  St.  Andrews,  and  have  looked  out  upon 
the  sea  and  the  "  ocean  cave 

Where  good  St.  Rule  his  holy  lay 
From  raidnitrht  to  the  dawn  of  day 
Sings  to  the  billow's  sound," 

let  us  pass  through  this  gateway  and,  crossing  the  soft 
green   sward,  seat  ourselves   on   this  weathered  stone 


THE    PRINCELY    PIONEER.  197 

beneath  these  most  stately  ruins  on  the  breezy  crag 
above  the  dirge-singing  waves,  and  tell  the  moving  story 
of  the  memorable  past. 

The  Scene. 

On  this  very  spot  was  fought  the  great  good  fight. 
Yes,  it  is  holy  ground !  worthy  of  the  memories  of  the 
Christ-crowned  conqueror  !  How  green  the  grass,  how 
high  the  sky  and  cloudless  to-day !  How  calm  the  sea, 
singing  so  softly  fifty  feet  below  !  How  peaceful  and 
prosperous  those  college  halls,  outcome  of  the  famous 
St.  Leonard's  Well,  in  this  sweet-breathed  St.  Andrews ! 
Yes,  but  we  must  step  backward  three  hundred  and 
fifty-five  years  and  nine  months,  if  we  would  see  it  all 
live  again — back  to  March  1,  1528 — and  now  all  in  a 
moment  changes.  These  magnificent  and  picturesque 
ruins  rise  up  at  once  into  strong,  frowning,  defiant  walls, 
into  towers  and  turrets  that  seem  the  points  of  the 
native  rocks,  their  base.  The  waves  are  rushing  fast 
and  white-capped,  the  spindrift  is  scudding  beneath  a 
leaden  sky,  and  the  storm  is  brewing.  But  rage  and 
tempest  fiercer  and  more  deadly  far  than  those  by  which 
sky  and  sea  are  torn  and  tossed  fill  the  hearts  and  hurry 
on  to  murder  those  priests  and  prelates  and  their  tools, 
who  are  now  seen  pouring  with  shouts  and  sneers  and 
curses  through  those  old  cathedral  doors.  Who  are  they  ? 
To  use  the  strong  words  of  a  strong  man,  they  are  "  Bea- 
touns  the  beasts,  their  bloody  butchers  ;  the  black  friars 
with  their  pliant  tools,  sin-laden  priests  and  selfish 
lords,  and  the  witless  fools  of  the  common  folk."  And 
these  men  are  speeding  on  to  murder  fast  as  thirsty 
tigers  who  have  scented  blood. 

These   are   the   rulers  of  hajjless  Scotland  in  these 


198  PATRICK    HAMILTON, 

darkest  of  her  dark  days.  The  fatal  field  of  Flodden, 
fought  on  the  9th  of  September,  1513,  left  an  infant 
for  a  king,  and  that  luckless  lad  is  yet  but  a  very  pup- 
pet within  a  lawless  and  war-wasted  kingdom  in  the 
hands  of  peers  who  were  the  minions  of  France,  and  of 
prelates  who  were  the  most  dissolute  of  their  order  and 
the  greedy  myrmidons  of  Rome.  What  a  land  they 
have  made  of  it!  Look  around  and  you  will  see  a 
lower  deep  of  wretchedness  than  is  known  even  in  the 
Spain  of  the  Inquisition.  Nothing  like  the  state  of 
things  here  can  be  witnessed  in  the  entire  western 
Church  : — corruptions  grown  to  greatest  height,  super- 
stition and  religious  imposture  in  their  grossest  forms, 
the  full  half  of  the  wealth  of  the  nation  in  the  hands 
of  the  clergy,  whose  lives  are  a  scandal  to  religion  and 
an  outrage  on  decency.  The  bishops  set  the  example  of 
the  most  shameless  profligacy  before  the  lower  clergy, 
— their  houses  brothels,  and  their  many  sons  put  into 
the  highest  benefices,  even  as  infants;  while  the  inferior 
benefices  are  put  up  to  public  sale  and  bought  by  stroll- 
ing players,  by  dice-casters  and  actually  by  the  courte- 
sans of  the  cardinal  and  the  bishops ;  and  among  all 
these  bishops  not  one  has  ever  been  known  to  preach. 
But  now  they  gather  fast,  and  hurry  on  their  tools  to 
burn  the  one  pure,  princely  man,  with  the  blood  of  the 
kings  full  and  large  in  his  veins,  because,  loving  his  land 
and  his  people  and  his  Lord,  he  has  filled  St.  Leonard's 
Well  full  to  overflowing  with  the  living  water  from  the 
German  springs  to  slake  the  thirst  of  dying  Scotland. 

Whence  come  they  with  these  flouts  and  jibes  and 
curses  ?  From  the  packed  council  where  the  worst  of 
the  priestly  scoundrels  have  sat  as  judges  and  jury,  and 
where  they  have  held  the  little  hands  of  boy-peers  like 


THE    PRINCELY    PIONEER.  199 

Cassilis,  compelling  them  to  sign  the  condemnation  of 
this  royal  youth.  Ah,  yes  !  that  hurried  trial  with  the 
foregone  conclusion,  in  the  early  morning  and  the  troop- 
guarded  hall,  is  like  the  infamous  trial  of  Huss  at  Con- 
stance, and  the  iniquitous  travesty  of  justice  at  Flor- 
ence— only  a  mere  form  to  compel  the  secular  arm  to 
strike  the  blow  which  the  papacy  longs  to  hear  fall 
with  murderous  force.  Execution  was  decided  ere  the 
court  was  constituted;  therefore  was  it  that  these  coarse, 
stalwart  servants  of  the  cardinal  and  his  nephew  have 
been  hastily  bringing  and  piling  thick  and  high  this 
wood  and  straw  and  coal  and  powder  round  that  stout 
stake,  with  its  iron  chain,  beside  the  outer  gate.  See 
how,  yonder,  the  younger  Beatoun,  more  bloodthirsty 
than  his  uncle,  hurries  on  his  cursing  crew.  AVhy  all 
this  hot  haste  ?  The  bloody  butchers  fear  a  rescue. 
No  ordinary  victim  this — so  soon  to  be  bound  before  our 
eyes  to  that  tree  of  shame  and  agony !  He  belongs  to 
the  family  whose  feet  are  on  the  throne,  and  his  little 
cousin  shall  be  soon  named  as  a  most  worthy  mate  for 
the  Tudor  Elizabeth.  Already  the  warlike  Hamiltons 
are  on  the  march ;  already  the  tramp  of  the  hastening 
rescuers  is  heard  by  the  cardinal's  scouts ;  already  the 
Beatouns  fear  they  may  even  yet  lose  their  prey.  There- 
fore "  Speed  ye  !  speed  ye !"  said  with  a  coarse  laugh 
cruel  David  Beatoun ;  "  speed  ye  !  and  we  will  gie  them 
aishes  to  gaither !" 

And  ashes  he  soon  will  be — he  that  comes  from  the 
castle  keep — ashes  on  the  blackened  sod !  Ashes  for 
the  wind  from  off  the  German  Sea  to  scatter  over  all 
Scotland  !  Ashes  that  will  sow  death  for  these  bloody 
Beatouns,  and  armed  men  for  the  fierce  fight  coming — 
the  fight  to  free  faith  and  this  land  ! 


200  patrick  hamilton, 

The  Sufferer. 

Tall  and  straight,  like  a  young  pine  on  the  side  of 
yonder  corry,  broad-shouldered  and  stout-armed  as  his 
father,  who  was  the  swiftest  and  deadliest  swordsman 
of  his  warring  days — elastic  in  his  tread  as  a  stag,  with 
a  fair,  sweet  face,  yet  firm  as  flint,  with  an  eye  that 
flashes  round  its  keen,  piercing  glance,  and  yet  melts  so 
softly  on  his  sobbing  gaoler  pleading  for  forgiveness, 
and  long  curling  hair  that  tells  of  his  Stuart  mother — 
he  comes,  a  young  man  to  whom  life  is  now  so  strangely 
dear,  and  for  whom  life  has  so  sore  and  pressing  need  ; 
a  young  man  just  four-and-twenty  years  of  age.  Mark 
him  well  as  with  measured  step,  but  all  firmly-planted 
foot,  he  walks,  as  the  clock  tolls  the  noon  hour,  through 
the  outer  gate,  across  the  drawbridge  and  out  upon  the 
sward.  That  bright-faced  youth  has  in  him  the  most 
heroic  soul  of  his  heroic  line,  and  in  his  veins  runs  the 
royal  blood  of  Scotland ;  better  still,  he  is  one  of  the 
noblest  of  the  reforming  band.  Yes,  princely  among 
the  Davids  of  the  host  of  God — Patrick  Hamilton !  the 
first  reformer  of  Scotland  and  the  first  of  Scottish 
martyrs !  The  beloved  pupil  of  Farel,  Luther  and 
Lambert,  the  friend  of  John  Fryth  and  of  Tyndale,  the 
converter  of  Alexander  Aless  or  Alesius,  the  teacher 
of  Forrest  and  George  Wishart,  and  the  forerunner  and 
inspiration  of  John  Knox. 

Yes,  there  is  an  apostolic  succession,  but  it  comes  not 
with  the  chrism  of  the  Church — only  through  the 
unction  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  God's  witnesses  stand 
one  long  unbroken  line.  The  Albigensian  missionaries 
and  martyrs,  the  Bohemian  preacher  Crawar,  lead  in 
England  to  Bradwardine  of  the  "  De  Catisa  Dei,"  and 
to  Peter  Lombard  of  the  "  Sentences ;"  these  lead  to 


THE    PRINCELY    PIONEER.  201 

the  Louvain  monks  and  the  Cologne  confessors ;  these 
link  themselves  to  Wycliffe  of  Oxford ;  John  of  Oxford 
to  John  of  Prague ;  Huss  and  Savonarola  and  Wessel 
to  Luther  of  Wittenberg;  Wittenberg  to  Marburg,  and 
they  to  St.  Andrews,  and  it  to  Dundee  and  Wishart; 
Wishart — gentle  prophet — to  gigantic  Knox,  to  Edin- 
burgh and  St.  Giles ;  St.  Giles  to  Carrickfergus  and 
the  Scotch-Irish,  and  they  to  Independence  Hall  and 
to  our  own  Witherspoon,  and  the  golden  chain  reaches 
even  to  us. 

This  young  man  of  four-and-twenty  years  of  age  is 
the  heroic  and  princely  son  of  bravest  knight  and  royal 
mother.  That  father,  according  to  the  heralds  stand- 
ing yonder,  was  Sir  Patrick  Hamilton,  Scotland's  first 
knight,  the  prize-winner  in  every  tournament  of  his 
day,  the  famous  son  of  Lord  Hamilton  and  husband  of 
the  princess  Mary,  Countess  of  Arran,  daughter  of 
King  James  the  Second.  The  mother  of  him  whom 
they  are  stripping  for  the  stake  was  Catherine  Stuart, 
the  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Albany,  and  he  was  the 
son  of  the  same  James  of  Scotland.  Princely  young 
Patrick  is,  therefore,  on  both  sides,  and  with  warrior's 
blood  he  is  filled.  Yes,  the  young  eagle  comes  not  from 
the  dove-cot,  nor  the  young  lion  from  the  sheep-fold ; 
the  old  crusader's  son  is  to  be  to-day  the  first  standard- 
bearer  of  the  host  warring  for  Christ's  crown  and  cove- 
nant. If  not  many,  some  nobles  are  called,  and  princely 
Hamilton  will  be  followed  in  due  time  by  Glencairn  and 
Ruthven  and  Argyll  and  Mora3^  No  class,  no  rank, 
from  the  prince  to  the  pauper,  in  the  stern  fights  com- 
iner  shall  fail  to  furnish  martvrs  for  the  truth. 

How  and  when  did  this   young  noble,  under  whom 
they  are  kindling  for  the  third  time  the  green  wood  and 
14 


202  PATRICK    HAMILTON, 

damp  straw,  whose  slow  flames  the  strong  sea  Avind  has 
blown  out  twice — how  and  when  did  he  come  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth  ?  No  one  knows  exactly.  But 
you  will  hear  strange  tales,  if  you  are  trusted,  beside 
some  peat-fires  in  Galloway,  nnd  the  Lothians,  and 
through  Renfrewshire,  while  the  wind  howls  outside. 
The  old  folks  say  that  from  the  hour  when  Columba, 
from  the  song-laden  oaks  of  Deny,  came  to  lona  till 
this  sad  hour  Scotland — in  her  Culdees,  whose  fallen 
church  still  covers  that  crag  with  ruins,  in  the  quiet 
followers  of  the  Bohemian  Crawar,  who  was  burned 
years  ago  by  the  priests,  in  her  Lollards  of  Kyle,  and 
in  the  students  coming  from  Paris,  Louvain  and  Cologne 
with  the  books  of  Hussite  believers  and  with  the  Bibles, 
of  Wycliffe — Scotland  has  never  wanted  men  and 
women  who  liked  not  the  priests  and  monks,  but  loved 
dearly  the  strange  talk  of  Luther  and  Farel  and  Calvin 
and  Zwingle.  These  students  always  found  a  welcome 
and  these  books  ever  had  a  sale  among  the  Hamiltons ; 
and  it  has  been  whispered  that  gentle,  beautiful  and 
gracious  Catherine  Stuart,  to  whom  her  chained,  doomed 
boy  is  sending  cheery  messages  for  her  own  breaking 
heart,  and  for  his  young  wife,  just  now  needing  all  a 
fond  mother's  tenderest  care,  talked  oftenest  with  the 
students  and  read  deepest  in  their  books.  And  the 
old  steward  of  Kincavil  told  but  lately  that  between 
the  gentle  mother  and  her  brave  boy  Patrick  there  was 
a  closer  bond  than  blood — the  deepest  sympathy  of 
kindred  souls.  Be  this  fireside  gossip  as  it  may,  this 
dear  young  soldier  of  the  gospel,  round  whom  the 
flames  are  now  kindling  and  the  powder  is  exploding  and 
the  monkish  torturers  are  jeering,  was  early  known  as 
the  most  thoughtful  and  pure-souled  of  the  throng  that 


THE    PRINCELY    PIONEER.  203 

gathered  in  the  palace  halls  of  Linlithgow,  then  the 
Florence  of  Scotland.  Yet  the  sword  was  no  stranger 
to  his  hand,  for  all  his  father's  strength  and  all  his  skill 
promised  to  be  Patrick's  rather  than  the  elder  son's. 
He  swam  the  wildest  seas,  he  ran  the  fleetest  race,  and 
scaled  the  loftiest  crag  to  reach  the  eagle's  nest. 

But  books  he  loved  best,  from  whom  the  blood  is  now 
spurting  out  of  the  wounds  caused  by  that  last  explo- 
sion. Books  he  devoured  and  mastered  easily  while 
yet  but  a  lad.  Exhausting  all  the  means  of  instruction 
then  to  be  found  in  Scotland,  he  went  with  the  funds 
derived  from  his  abbey  of  Feme  in  Rosshire — for  they 
had  made  him  an  abbot  when  still  a  child — to  Paris,  then 
the  most  famous  school  of  western  Europe.  There  he 
entered  the  college  of  Montaigne,  where  the  Scotchman 
John  Major  was  professor.  And  you  may  see*  his  name 
on  the  register  to  this  hour.  When  Hamilton  entered 
the  University  of  Paris,  one  Farel  was  lecturing  on  the 
true  use  of  the  cross  and  the  true  Christ.  To  his  lec- 
tures all  the  young  men  gathered,  and  Hamilton  ardent 
among  the  foremost.  Soon  began  the  battle  which 
ended  in  Farel's  expulsion  from  the  university, — began 
and  waxed  swiftly  into  a  deadly  fight  with  the  Church- 
rulers  and  convulsed  the  colleges.  Into  the  heart  of 
that  contest  the  brave  young  Scotchman,  with  his  fiery 
heart  and  chivalrous  spirit,  dashed,  and  bore  him  right 
nobly  in  the  strife.  Even  then  he  made  men  old  in 
years  and  skilled  in  scholastic  struggles  wonder  at  his 
keen  logic  and  his  rare  powers  of  expression ;  his  state- 
ment of  the  case  was  a  half-victory.  While  his  mind 
was  thus  in  a  white  heat,  the  tidings  came  to  him  that 
his  father  had  fallen  at  the  head  of  his  victorious  troops, 
and   his   darling  mother  was  a   widow — but  a  widow 


204  PATRICK    HAMILTON, 

brave  in  her  God,  and  self-possessed  for  her  boy's  sake. 
From  that  moment,  it  has  been  told,  Patrick  was  a  de- 
voted, avowed  Christian,  and  a  leader  on  the  side  of  the 
Reformation.  Graduating  with  much  distinction,  the 
ardent  student  hurried  to  Louvain,  and  gave  himself  to 
the  study  of  philosophy  and  Greek  under  Erasmus. 
The  workers  for  the  Reformation  are  all  now  working 
to  make  Hamilton  a  mighty  champion  of  the  faith.  No 
wonder  that  the  friars  feared  and  hated  him  ! 

On  the  9th  of  June,  1523,  the  fearless  youth  is  again 
in  his  native  land,  working  vigorously  for  the  inbringing 
of  the  brighter  day.  Soon  he  is  found  in  St.  Andrews 
lecturing  to  a  group  of  eager  men,  and  promulgating 
his  strange  and  revolutionary  doctrines.  In  1524  he 
becomes  a  recognized  member  of  the  faculty  of  arts, 
and  delivers,  as  regular  professor,  his  first  lecture  on 
the  3d  day  of  October.  His  noble  rank,  his  great 
personal  power,  his  stainless  character,  his  rare  devo- 
tion, his  extensive  reading,  his  exact  scholarship,  his 
clear  speech,  his  convincing  reasoning,  and  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  word  daily  increasing,  he  makes  very  quickly 
tell  on  the  college  and  community.  The  young  men 
rally  enthusiastically  to  his  side ;  gray-haired  seekers 
of  wisdom  hearken  with  wonder  to  the  fiery-souled  and 
fiery-tongued  teacher,  and  fear  for  his  life ;  perplexed 
priests  seek  him  by  night  like  Nicodemus  of  old ;  sus- 
picious friars  watch  him  narrowl}^,  and  feel  that  they 
have  at  last  met  a  deadly  foe ;  the  bishops  and  nobles 
shake  their  heads,  and  the  bloody  Beatouns  keep  silent, 
watching  and  plotting  mischief. 

Hamilton's  uncle,  brother  and  friends  hear  of  the 
plot  of  death,  and  they  force  tlio  dauntless  teacher  to 
go  once  more  abroad.     Had  he  only  stayed  there,  he 


THE    PRINCELY   PIONEER.  205 

were  not  now  slowly  roasting  to  death  in  these  unutter- 
able agonies,  which  cannot  draw  from  his  more  than 
heroic  spirit  even  one  single  groan !  First  to  Witten- 
berg he  went :  as  to  that  fact  there  is  no  doubt,  for  all 
his  closest  friends,  and  those  knowing  best  his  life,  are 
united  here  in  their  testimony.  Upon  the  outbreak  of 
the  plague,  Luther,  who  was  much  taken  with  the  bold 
and  ardent  youth  so  ripe  in  grace  and  wisdom,  advised 
Hamilton  to  go  partly  as  pupil  and  partly  as  professor 
to  the  newly-opened  University  of  Marburg,  founded 
by  Philip,  landgrave  of  Hesse,  and  presided  over  by 
the  learned,  eloquent,  commanding  and  devout  Francis 
Lambert  of  Avignon.  Here  Hamilton  immediately 
made  Lambert  and  all  the  faculty  feel  that  a  master, 
rather  than  a  scholar,  was  in  their  midst.  And  the 
man  whom  here  they  hoot  and  mock  at  the  stake,  those 
holy  men  of  God  prized  and  loved  in  Marburg. 

To  Lambert  the  young  enthusiast  was  especially  dear. 
They  studied  together,  they  debated  on  the  highest 
themes,  and  pored  for  hours  over  the  sacred  word. 
Hamilton  stirred  the  wonder  of  the  distinguished 
Frenchman  by  the  extensive  and  exact  knowledge  of 
the  Bible  which  he  had  gained,  by  the  freshness  of  his 
thoughts,  the  force  of  his  imagination,  the  nobility  of 
his  character,  the  loftiness  and  strength  of  his  soul,  and 
the  thorough  mastery  of  the  way  of  life  shown  by  him 
in  conversation  and  public  discussion.  The  learned  and 
devout  landgrave  looks  with  amaze  on  the  stripling 
one  day  as  Lambert,  pointing  to  the  youth,  says,  "  This 
young  man  of  the  illustrious  family  of  the  Hamiltons, 
which  is  closely  allied  by  the  ties  of  blood  to  the  king 
and  the  kingdom  of  Scotland,  though  hardly  twenty- 
three  years  of  age  brings  to  the  study  of  the  Sci'iptures 


206  PATRICK    HAMILTON, 

a  very  sound  judgment  and  has  vast  store  of  knowledge. 
I  have  hardly  ever  met  a  man  who  expresses  himself 
with  so  much  spirituality  on  the  word  of  God."  Right 
speedily  this  kingly  son  of  Scotland  stands  forth  the 
kingly  son  of  God  to  defend  and  declare  all  his  Father's 
message  as  the  gospel  lecturer  of  the  university.  Daily 
the  great  hall  is  packed  to  overflowing,  the  doorways 
and  windows  and  corridors  filled — nobles,  professors 
and  preachers,  students  and  eager  townsfolk,  crowding 
to  hear  the  Scottish  Stephen,  who,  with  the  character- 
istic features  of  the  Scottish  divinity,  a  philosophy 
born  of  common  sense  and  broadened  by  faith,  and 
a  theology  drawn  direct  from  the  scholarly  study  of 
the  God-spoken  word,  discourses  on  "  the  law  and  the 
gospel." 

And  thus  Avas  this  mighty  man  in  the  Scriptures 
wont  to  speak :  "  There  is  a  difference  and  even  an  op- 
position between  the  law  and  the  gospel.  The  law 
showeth  us  our  sin,  the  gospel  showeth  us  the  remedy 
for  it ;  the  law  showeth  our  condemnation,  the  gospel 
our  redemption ;  the  law  is  the  word  of  ire,  the  gospel 
the  word  of  grace ;  the  law  is  the  word  of  despair,  the 
gospel  the  word  of  comfort;  the  law"  is  the  word  of 
storm,  the  gospel  the  word  of  peace ;  the  law  saith  pay 
thy  debt,  the  gospel  saith  Christ  hath  paid  it ;  the  law 
saith  thou  art  damned,  therefore  despair,  the  gospel 
saith  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee,  be  of  good  comfort, 
Christ  hath  made  amends,  thou  shalt  be  saved ;  the  law 
saith  thou  art  bound  to  me,  to  the  devil  and  to  hell,  the 
gospel  saith  Christ  hath  delivered  thee  from  the  curse 
of  the  law  and  all  evil." 

Equally  clear  and  sharp  are  his  views  of  faith : 
"  Faith  is  the  eye  which  sees  and  receives  Christ  the 


THE    PRINCELY    PIONEER.  207 

author  of  redemption.  There  are  only  these  two  things, 
Christ  sacrificed  and  the  eye  contemplating  him.  Faith 
is  born  in  a  man's  heart,  when  as  he  hears  or  reads  the 
word  of  God  the  Holy  Spirit  bears  witness  in  his  heart 
to  the  master  truth  found  therein,  and  proves  to  the 
soul  that  Christ  is  an  almighty  Saviour.  Faith  is  God's 
work,  not  man's,  and  this  faith  sets  a  man  on  the  rock." 
Verily  he  had  found  the  rock.  So  he  lectured,  till  all 
wondered  at  the  gracious  w^ords  that  proceeded  out  of 
his  young  lips,  till  all  loved  him  and  would  have  kept 
him  ;  but,  like  Paul  yearning  over  the  hapless  and  hope- 
less Hebrew,  Hamilton  is  longing  in  his  brave  Scotch 
heart  to  give  God's  clear  light  to  his  darkened  land. 
He  hears  the  cry  and  sees  Christ  going  out  before  him, 
and  he  must  needs  go  home.  And  these  four  hours  of 
slow  fire  is  the  reward  given  to  Christ's  ambassador  by 
these  servants  of  Satan ! 

The  devoted  scholar  and  apostle  begins  his  last  great 
crusade  in  his  brother's- house,  where  he  pours  the  full 
gospel  forth  to  the  joy  and  peace  of  his  mother's  soul, 
to  the  enlightenment  of  his  kinsfolk,  and  the  heart- 
stirring  of  many  young  lairds  and  earnest  peasants. 
From  old  Kincavil  he  passes  on  to  royal  Linlithgow,  and 
there  to  the  court  he  speaks  for  the  first  time  of  Scot- 
land's higher  and  real  King  and  his  crown  rights.  Then 
out  into  the  Lothians,  and  up  and  down  through  Ren- 
frewshire, he  carries  to  the  refreshing  and  gladdening  of 
many  thirsty,  weary  hearts  the  pure  evangel.  Now  the 
tigers  fix  their  eyes  on  him.  He  is,  with  blandest 
words  and  sweetest  courtesies  but  with  an  all-satanic 
craft,  invited  by  the  Beatouns  to  the  centre  of  the  church 
and  college  life  of  Scotland.  A  good  man,  full  of  faith 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  mighty  in  the   Scriptures,  with  a 


208  PATRICK    HAMILTON, 

mouth  and  wisdom  not  to  be  gainsaid  or  resisted,  Ham- 
ilton goes,  and  soon  fills  the  college  chapel,  and  then  the 
cathedral  itself.  Many  are  added  to  the  Lord.  But, 
alas,  his  good  confession  is  his  condemnation.  The 
bloody  Beatouns  have  him  seized  by  night ;  they  secure 
him  in  the  dungeon  of  the  castle,  which  has  been 
made  by  the  cardinal  into  a  very  fortress ;  they  plot 
against  him  with  the  many  enemies  of  his  father's 
house ;  they  stir  the  easily-kindled  jealousies  of  those 
who  fear  the  succession  of  the  Hamiltons  to  power  and 
the  l;hrone ;  they  pack  a  council ;  they  have  the  noble 
preacher  tried,  condemned,  sentenced  to  the  slow  fire ; 
and  now  the  fifth  hour  is  sounding  since  this  devilish 
cruelty  began. 

And  now  through  the  triple  line  of  guards  you  may 
see  the  fiendish  black  friar,  Alexander  Campbell,  whose 
name  as  the  Scottish  Judas  shall  go  down  blasted 
through  the  ages,  mocking  the  unmurmuring  martyr,  un- 
til at  last  Hamilton,  to  rid  him  of  this  torture  far  worse 
to  his  pure  and  noble  soul  than  even  the  flames,  says, 
"  Thou  wicked  man,  thou  knowest  better.  Thyself  hast 
often  told  me  so.  I  appeal  thee  to  the  bar  of  Christ." 
And  look !  how  with  the  brand  of  Cain  on  his  brow, 
and  the  remorse  of  Judas  gnawing  in  his  heart,  the 
friar  rushes  from  the  spot  to  his  awful  death. 

Now  the  young  husband  thinks  of  his  lovely  bride 
and  his  child,  never  to  know  a  father's  kiss  and  bless- 
ing,  and  he  commends  them  to  his  king-cousin  and  to 
God.  Then  he  is  heard  praying  for  his  mother.  Once 
more  he  is  silent.  Hearken !  once  more  the  clear  voice 
rises  above  the  gathering  storm,  "  0  God,  open  the  eyes 
of  my  fellow  countrymen,  that  they  may  know  the 
truth  !" 


THE    PRINCELY    PIONEER.  209 

Half-past  five — five  hours  and  a  half!  A  long  fight 
truly  !  See  !  they  grow  tired  of  the  hell-sport.  They 
are  piling  round  him  dry  and  oiled  straw.  See  !  the 
rising  wind  catches  it.  The  iron  chain  grows  red-hot, 
and  is  cutting  him  in  two.  Who  starts  forward  ?  Who 
is  dashing  the  guards  aside  ?  It  is  the  martyr's  servant. 
Hear  him  cry,  "  Young  laird,  if  thou  holdest  true  the 
doctrine  thou  diest  for,  make  us  a  sign !"  One  arm  is 
gone,  and  of  the  hand  on  the  other  arm  three  fingers 
are  lost.  But  up,  out  of  the  hissing,  raging  flames, 
rises  the  blazing  hand,  and  the  two  fingers  stiffen  ;(lhen 
they  grow  relaxed,  then  the  arm  sinks  and  the  head 
droops,  and  the  Saviour  takes  him  home  ere  his  last 
words  have  died  on  the  wind — "  Lord  Jesus,  receive 
my  spirit !"  And  the  sweetest,  strongest,  saintliest 
confessor  Scotland  ever  gave  to  God  wears  the  crown ! 
He  was  faithful  unto,  and  even  through,  that  death ! 

The  Successors  of  the  Martyr. 
Come,  the  light  of  our  October  day  in  this  year  of 
grace  1883  is  fading  fast;  and,  as  we  walk  back  to  the 
manse  again,  we  can  tell  the  sequel.  That  flame  on 
the  old  Culdee  headland  kindled  all  Scotland.  "  The 
reek  of  Patrick  Hamilton  infected  all  it  blew  upon," 
was  the  witness  of  the  foe.  It  became  a  real  fiery 
cross.  From  hand  to  hand  it  went — ^north  and  west 
through  the  highlands,  south  and  across  the  borders. 
Every  one  asked.  Why  did  the  Beatouns  burn  the  brave 
young  laird,  the  king's  cousin?  And  as  they  heard 
many  a  youth  said.  We  want  Patrick's  faith.  And 
strong  men  swore  that  the  deed  of  blood  should  bring 
blood.  "  Just  at  the  time  when  these  cruel  wolves," 
said   John   Knox,  "had,  as   they  supposed,  clean   de- 


210  PATRICK    HAMILTON, 

voured  their  prey,  a  very  great  crowd  surrounded  them 
and  demanded  of  them  an  account  for  the  blood  they 
had  shed." 

The  immediate  disciple  of  Hamilton  was  a  young 
monk,  born  about  the  same  time  as  the  martyr,  one 
Alexander  Aless.  He  had  been  sent  by  the  papists  to 
convert  Hamilton,  but  the  reformer  so  planted  the 
truth  in  the  soul  of  his  antagonist  that  Alesius  became 
a  holder  of  the  faith.  He  witnessed  and  has  recorded 
the  martyrdom  of  Hamilton  so  vividly  that  we  ourselves 
have  been  able  to  see  it  pass  anew  down  those  dreadful 
six  hours.  Out  from  the  stake  Aless  went  preaching 
Christ.  For  many  months  he  hurried  to  and  fro,  telling 
the  good  news.  Then  the  Beatouns  seized  him  and 
would  have  burned  him,  had  they  not,  like  the  Jewish 
persecutors,  feared  the  people.  But  they  banished  him 
for  life.  Before  he  was  driven  forth,  however,  he  had 
fired  another  soul ;  and  George  Wishart,  the  thrilling 
prophet  of  Dundee,  takes  up  in  turn  the  wondrous  tale. 
No  grander  figure  for  a  martyr-picture  than  that  mighty, 
merciful  man,  who  went  through  the  "  dark  days  of 
Dundee  "  with  the  spirit  of  his  Master  and  the  waters 
of  life.  But  time  suffers  not,  and  he  is  not  my  theme. 
Him  they  burned  too,  on  a  March  day  just  sixteen 
years  after  Hamilton,  and  on  the  same  spot.  Just  as 
the  bay  of  Rome's  bloodhounds  was  bursting  near  and 
clear  on  the  ear  of  Wishart,  he  turned  and  said  to  a 
strong  and  brave  man  carrying  a  huge  two-handled 
sword,  "  Gang  back  to  thy  bairns ;  ane  is  aneuch  the 
noo !"  And  John  Knox  went  back  at  the  word  of  the 
prophet — went  back  to  be  summoned  soon  to  St.  An- 
drews, where  furious  and  frenzied  men  have  slain  the 
blood-stained   Beatoun,  and   are  hanging  him  from  the 


THE    PRINCELY    PIONEER.  211 

very  window  which  Wishart  pointed  out  as  the  hist 
resting-place  of  the  cruel  man  who  was  thence  watcliing 
and  mocking  the  martyr's  agonies  : — went  back  when 
the  avengers  have  opened  the  gates  of  the  castle  and 
the  pulpit  of  the  cathedral  to  the  free  men  of  Scotland 
and  the  free  gospel  of  the  Reformation  : — went  back  to 
preach  and  administer  the  full  sacrament  of  the  supper, 
till  the  Guise  party  again  seized  the  castle  and  power 
in  Scotland  : — went  back  to  lie  in  the  dungeons  of  the 
false  foe  and  pull  the  slave's  oar  in  the  felon's  galley  : 
— went  back  to  know  John  Calvin  and  his  clear  gospel 
and  his  fully-restored  apostolic  Christianity  and  its 
simple  forms,  and  the  free  yet  orderly  .house  and  city  of 
God  : — went  back  to  save  Scotland,  and  with  it,  as 
Froude  says,  "  Scottish  and  English  freedom  ...  for 
John  Knox,  broken  in  body  and  scarcely  able  to  stagger 
up  the  pulpit  stairs,  thundered  in  the  parish  church  of 
St.  Andrews ;  and  his  voice  was  like  ten  thousand 
trumpets  braying  in  the  ear  of  Scottish  Protestantism  :" 
— 'Went  back  a  great-hearted,  brave-souled,  devoted, 
tireless  father  to  his  bairns,  and  they  are  found  in  the 
ancient  and  reformed  Church  of  Scotland — with  her 
biblical  faith  and  her  laudable  form  and  ancient  order — 
the  dear  "auld  kirk,"  the  Jerusalem  of  the  North, 
which  is  the  mother  of  us  all ! 


"  The  cross,  if  rightly  borne,  shall  be 
No  burden,  but  support  to  thee, — 
So,  moved  of  old  time  for  our  sake, 
The  holy  monk  of  Kemper  spake. 

"  Thou  brave  and  true  one  1  upon  whom 
Was  laid  the  cross  of  martyrdom, 
How  didst  thou  in  thy  generous  youth 
Bear  witness  to  this  blessed  truth  ! 


212  PATRICK    HAMILTON. 

"  Thy  cross  of  suffering  and  of  shame 
A  staff  within  thy  hands  became, 
In  paths  where  faith  alone  could  see 
The  Master's  steps  supporting;  thee. 

"  Thine  was  the  seed-time  !     God  alone 
Beholds  the  end  of  what  is  sown  ; 
Beyond  our  vision  weak  and  dim, 
The  harvest-time  is  hid  with  him. 

"  Yet  unforgotten  where  it  lies, 
That  seed  of  generous  sacrifice, 
Though  seeming  on  the  desert  cast. 
Shall  rise  with  bloom  and  fruit  at  last." 


ULRICH  ZWINGLE, 


"They  never  fail,  the  kinglier  breed 
Who  starry  diadems  attain  ; 
To  dungeon,  axe  and  stake  succeed 
Heirs  of  the  old  heroic  strain. 

"Thou  hast  succeeded,  thou  hast  won 
The  deathly  travail's  amplest  worth 
A  nation's  duty  thou  hast  done, 
Giving  a  hero  to  our  earth." 


AUTHORITIES  CONSULTED. 


Zwingle's  Works,  Commentary,  Confession,  etc  ,  etc. ;  the  Church 
Histories  and  Histories  of  the  period  ;  Christoffel's  Works  ;  Biographies 
by  Myconius,  Hottinger,  Glider,  Siegwart ;  D'Aubigne's  Reformation; 
Haggenbach,  Principal  W.  Cunningham  ;  several  monographs  in  Ger- 
man .and  French  periodicals ;  the  articles  in  cyclopaedias. 


ULRICH  ZWINGLE, 

THE  HERO  OF  HELVETIC  REFORM. 


"  He  that  doeth  truth  cometh  to  the  light,  that  his  deeds  may  be 

MADE    MANIFEST,  THAT    THEY    ARE    WROUGHT    IN    GoD." John   iii.  21. 

Many  are  the  sentences  of  the  "  Westminster  Con- 
fession" which  strike  the  thoughtful  and  generous 
student  of  that  venerable  and  as  yet  unrivalled  symbol, 
by  reason  of  their  sea-like  sweep  of  meaning,  their  rich 
suggestiveness,  their  heaven-like  charity  and  their  in- 
spiriting boldness.  Among  these  splendid  and  at  times 
startling  sayings,  that  for  me  is  not  the  least  comforting 
and  instructive,  because  opening  so  wide  and  cheering 
vistas  of  hope,  which  honors  and  glorifies  the  almighty 
Spirit  of  love  by  the  grand  and  ringing  affirmation  that 
he  worketh  when  and  where  and  how  he  pleaseth ! 
Sweeping  sentence  that !  Splendid,  because  scriptural, 
Broad  Churchism  that !  Would  God  that  we  had  more 
of  it! 

That  fearless  yet  right-reverent  utterance  finds  a  rare 
and  magnificent  illustration  in  the  stories  of  those  great 
men  of  God  who  broke  the  yoke  of  the  papal  oppressor 
by  reason  of  that  anointing  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which 
each  in  his  own  place  and  peculiar  way  received.  By 
this  gracious,  ubiquitous  and  sovereign  Spirit,  thousands 
of  hearts  were  touched  and  won  for  God  and  man  about 
the  same  moment,  in  a  thousand  distinct  spots  and  in  a 


216  ULRIOH    ZWINGLE, 

thousand  different  ways.  Verily  the  Church  of  God 
had  at  that  reform-epoch  a  rich  Pentecostal  shower, 
which  was  not  confined  to  Saxony  or  England,  to  Scot- 
land or  Bohemia,  to  Paris  or  Geneva ;  but  the  elect 
souls  were  everywhere  scattered  abroad — the  sovereign 
and  omnipotent  Spirit  working  how  and  where  and  when 
he  pleased !  As  Ruskin  says,  "  That  season  was  not 
the  day  of  Reformation  so  much  as  the  period  of  Rean- 
imation.  New  life  was  in  the  air  and  on  the  earth." 
Yes !  the  closing  days  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  the 
opening  months  of  the  sixteenth  form  for  reverent 
thought  and  for  world-overcoming  faith  a  most  mighty 
and  blessed  resurrection-time.  The  glory-hour  of  the 
Spirit  of  life  and  beauty  was  it !  Vitalizing  breezes 
were  blowing  fast  and  free,  with  resistless  force  and  yet 
with  gentle  tenderness  ;  and,  just  as  across  nature  be- 
fore the  dawn  in  spring  the  tremulous  murmur  of  life 
was  heard  far  and  wide,  from  the  oleanders  of  Italy  to 
the  firs  and  beechwoods  of  the  Baltic,  from  the  stiff- 
stemmed  poplars  and  the  long-tressed  willows  of  France 
to  the  trailing  vines  and  sturdy  oaks  of  Hungary,  from 
the  pines  of  Switzerland  to  the  birches  of  Scotland. 

Looking  across  Europe  in  that  "  morning  hour  of  the 
new  light,"  we  see  simultaneous  movements  of  the 
Spirit  and  contemporary  and  decisive  manifestations  of 
the  new-given  life  which  are  wholly  independent  of  one 
another,  though  all  are  linked  to  those  thousand  pre- 
paratory forces  streaming  forth  from  the  Father  of  the 
ages,  and  by  him  made  converge  and  tell  on  this  new 
''  fullness  of  the  times."  Those  that  slept  awoke  at  the 
summons  of  the  common  dawn  ;  and  they  came  forth  to 
God's  work,  not  knowing  that  all  around  others  had 
awakened  and  arisen  from  the  sleep  of  death.     A  com- 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  217 

mon  cause  was  working  a  common  change.  There  was 
no  collusion,  no  communication.  Often  when  resting  on 
the  brow  of  some  early-scaled  peak  of  the  Alps  or 
Tyrol  have  I  looked  down  through  the  clear  and  fresh 
light  into  the  many  soft  valleys,  guarded  by  the  un- 
wearying sentinels  of  the  hills ;  and  then  have  I  seen 
each  separate  valley  wakening  up  to  the  new  day  which 
was  gently  stealing  down  through  it ;  each  beholding 
only  its  own  activity,  knowing  not  the  stir  in  the  next 
glen,  each  wholly  busied  with  itself.  The  morning  was 
all  abroad,  yet  each  valley  and  hamlet  felt  only  its  own 
sunrise !  Thus  we  now  from  our  high  vantage-ground 
can  see  it  was  in  the  working  of  the  Spirit  of  the  better 
dawn.  The  calling  of  the  Ethiopian  eunuch  and  the 
arrest  of  the  Tarsus  persecutor  were  not  more  distinct 
and  independent  than  the  call  of  Farel  and  Luther  and 
Zwingle  !  As  Cunningham  ("  The  Reformers  and  the 
Reformation,"  pp.  213,  214)  says,  "  This  fact  shows 
how  inaccurate  it  is  to  identify  the  Reformation  with 
Luther,  as  if  all  the  reformers  derived  their  opinions 
from  him  and  merely  followed  his  example  in  abandon- 
ing the  Church  of  Rome,  and  organizing  churches  apart 
from  her  communion.  Many  at  this  time  in  different 
parts  of  Europe  were  led  to  study  the  sacred  Scriptures 
for  themselves,  and  were  further  led  to  derive  from  this 
study  views  of  divine  truth  substantially  the  same,  and 
decidedly  opposed  to  those  generally  inculcated  in  the 
Church  of  Rome.  And  more  particularly  is  it  true  that 
Luther  and  Zwingle,  the  two  men  who  in  different 
countries  may  be  said  to  have  originated  the  public 
revolt  against  Rome  and  the  organization  of  Protestant 
churches,  were  wholly  independent  of  and  unconnected 
with   each   other,  in  the  formation  of  their  plans   and 

15 


218  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

their  opinions ;  and  both  derived  them  from  their  own 
separate  and  independent  study  of  the  word  of  God." 

In  this  marvellous  movement,  as  in  all  God's  works, 
likeness  and  unlikeness  are  beautifully  and  instructively 
balanced.  The  stirring  and  the  strengthening  of  that 
fresh  life  were  all  of  the  Spirit,  yet  nothing  of  man  was 
lost.  In  the  crossing  of  each  Jordan,  Joshua  and  the 
angel  of  the  Lord  are  both  fully  and  distinctly  seen, 
and  at  once.  God  has  always  room  for  variety,  for  indi- 
viduality, for  change,  for  innovations :  churches,  alas,  too 
seldom.  The  four  Gospels,  the  four  great  apostles,  the 
four  chief  of  the  church  fathers,  are  not  more  personal, 
individual  and  independent  than  are  the  four  great 
Reformation-fields  and  their  master-husbandmen.  Eng- 
land is  the  field  of  monarchical  reform,  Germany  of 
princely  and  aristocratic,  Scotland  of  parochial  and 
presbyterial,  and  Switzerland  of  civic  and  republican. 
And  in  each  field  is  seen  the  typical  man.  Cranmer, 
the  king's  friend ;  Luther,  the  companion  and  the  confi- 
dant of  the  princes  and  the  knights ;  Knox,  the  leader 
of  the  yeomanry  and  the  great  moderator  of  presbytery; 
Zwingle  (and  after  him  (Ecolampadius  in  Basle  and 
Calvin  in  Geneva),  the  counsellor  and  preacher  in  the 
republican  city. 

Thus  in  each  case  the  reform-movement  centres  in 
one  great  formative,  imperial  soul.  God  gathers  his 
light  into  stars ;  one  star  differeth  from  another  star  in 
glory;  so  God  makes  his  heaven.  God  puts  his  life 
and  grace  into  men ;  each  man  is  more  himself  after 
God  has  retouched  him  than  at  birth ;  so  God  makes 
his  Church.  These  distinct  men  shape  the  differing 
movements  and  determine  their  varied  forms ;  and  the 
lonely  man  is  largely  made  his  own  distinct  self  by  his 


THE    HERO    OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  219 

environment,  that  is,  by  the  bounds  of  his  God-given 
habitation.  Our  homes  and  our  schools  we  carry  to  our 
graves.  Not  more  distinctly  in  Hugh  Miller,  with  his 
schools  and  his  schoolmasters,  do  you  see  this  fact  of 
our  childhood  and  youth  outstretching  into  and  ever 
telling  on  our  manhood,  than  you  may  in  Savonarola 
and  Huss,  in  Luther  and  Calvin,  in  gentle  Wishart  and 
gigantic  Knox,  in  the  doubting  Cranmer  and  in  the 
dashing,  daring  Zwingle,  who'  was  in  many  respects  the 
most  advanced  man  of  the  early  reform.  His  breeding 
and  his  birthplace  made  him  the  distinct  man,  lonely 
and  lofty,  fearless  and  forward,  that  he  was ;  and  he 
stamped  himself  on  his  work — a  work  of  vastly  more 
originality,  importance  and  far-reaching  influence  than 
is  commonly  thought.  Prejudice,  partiality  and  neglect 
have  made  this  noble  soul  of  independent  thought  and 
of  broad  charity  a  half-forgotten  man  behind  Luther, 
Calvin  and  Knox.     But  his  is  in  all  truth 

"  One  of  the  few  immortal  names 
That  were  not  born  to  die." 

The  Mountaineer's  Boy. 

His  home  and  boyhood, — let  us  look  at  them,  and  in 
the  keen  light  of  broadest  contrast.  You  remember 
Savonarola.  Though  in  many  features,  such  as  daring, 
eager  thirst  for  knowledge,  in  strange  attractiveness,  in 
elevation  and  independence  of  soul,  in  political  farsight- 
edness and  statesman-like  ability,  the  martyr  of  Florence 
and  the  martyr  of  Cappel's  bloody  field  were  strikingly 
alike,  they  were  as  unlike  in  their  youth  and  their 
homes  as  the  countless  possibilities  of  life  could  well 
permit.  It  is  interesting  to  contrast  them,  and  it  is  in- 
structive   for    our   immediate    purpose.       The    Italian 


220  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

pioneer  is   the   child   of  the   lordly   palace,  the   Swiss 
reformer  of  the  lonely  peak.     Savonarola  heard  roaring 
round  him  the  wild  wassail  of  licentious  Italy  ;  Zwingle 
was  awed  by  the   silence   of  the  Alpine   hills.     The 
coming  monk-king  walked,   an  honored  friend,  in   the 
ducal  halls,  the  piazzas   and   the  gardens  of  Ferrara ; 
the  coming  priest-ensign  was  familiar  with  the  dells  and 
hills,  with  the  peaks  and  glaciers,  of  Appenzell.    To  the 
doctor's   son  what  a  varied   and   what  an   instructive 
world  opened  in  those  busy,  ambitious  cities  of  Italy  in 
the  days  of  papal  glory ;  what  a  warlike  life  it  was, 
with  knights  in  mail  and  fearless  freebooters ;  what  a 
lovely  life  it  was  in  golden  cities  and  homes  of  song  and 
galleries  of  art ;  what  a  learned  life  it  was,  with  all  its 
revived  classic  culture !     And   to  that  world,  so  rich, 
so  stirring,  so  wonderful  and  perilous,  Savonarola  an- 
swered ;  and  by  it  was  he   educated  for  his  life-work, 
carrying  out  from  it  much  of  his  subtlety,  his  keen  in- 
sight into  men   and    affairs,  his   quick  judgment,  his 
power  of  adaptation  and  of  command,  his  fiery  heart 
and  his  imperial  and   iron  will.     But  what  was  even 
that  world  of  man's  wealth  and  war  and  lavish  splendor 
to  that  all-glorious  world  of  the  Almighty  which  was 
lying  ever  open  to  the  eye  of  the  young  cragsman,  with 
its   gorgeous  wealth   of  sweeping  clouds  and  sleeping 
mountains,  with  its  awful  yet  exhilarating  war  of  storm 
and  snow,  with  its  contrasts  of  stubborn  peaks  and  pit- 
iless frosts  ever  wearing  the  stone  away,  with  its  welter 
of  the  spring- swollen  torrents  surging  round  the  grimly- 
smiling  boulders,  and  all  that  solemnizing  wildness  of 
the  day-flooded  crag  and  cataract,  all  that  weird  stillness 
of  the  night-wrapped  hills  ?     Think  of  the  spring  gifts 
there  showered  lavishly,  and  of  the  summer  glories ! 


THE    HERO    OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  221 

Hearken  to  the  silver  bells  of  a  thousand  welling 
fountains !  Watch  the  leap  and  the  sweep  of  the  ice- 
born  rivers  !  Gladden  your  eyes  with  the  lowly  beau- 
ties of  the  rock-guarded  valleys  !  Search  that  beet- 
ling cliff,  and  see  the  panting  chamois  mock  the  foiled 
hunter !  Look  on  the  chalets,  clinging  like  nests  to  the 
face  of  the  crag  !  Shout  for  joy  as  you  behold  the  flash 
of  the  crystal  crowns  far  up  above  the  clouds  !  And  as 
for  a  few  fast-flitting  days  you  see  this  great  lesson- 
world  of  God,  and  walk  in  those  gorgeous  halls  of 
truth,  whose  snowy  floors  and  mountain  walls  and  gran- 
ite pillars  are  thick  o'erwritten  by  the  Spirit's  finger, 
think  that  for  years — and  those  the  most  impressionable 
years  of  a  curious,  watchful  and  sensitive  youth,  who 
ever  with  deep  devotion  loved  these  everlasting  hills  in 
their  summer  glory  and  their  winter  grandeur — think 
that  for  years  these  hills  and  glens,  these  glaciers  and 
heights,  were  the  streets  which  Zwingle  walked,  these 
the  scenes  his  keen  eyes  rested  on,  till  vivid  and  real 
they  came  back  in  manhood  to  make  his  sermons  bright 
as  their  own  light  and  telling  as  their  own  strength ; 
think  that  these  great  voices  of  the  everlasting  hills 
were  the  divine  tones  that  stirred  his  musical  spirit, 
and  you  will  know  the  schools  and  teachers  of  his 
earliest  hours  !  These  schools  and  schoolmasters  ap- 
pear and  reappear  all  down  the  varied  and  checkered 
course  of  the  son  of  the  Alps.  The  mountains  are 
marked  in  the  man.  Steadfastness  ;  love  of  the  clearest 
light ;  delight  in  clean-cut  forms ;  a  vast  and  all-pervad- 
ing sense  of  the  majesty  of  God,  the  loneliness  of  the 
soul  with  God,  the  all-sufficiency  of  God,  the  nothing- 
ness of  man  before  God ;  a  keen  joy  in  the  unaided 
activity  of  God ;  a  sympathy  with  God  in  his  love  of 


222  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

beauty  and  his  care  of  life ;  great  reverence  of  spirit, 
true  brotherhood  and  a  ready  helpfulness  for  the  endan- 
gered and  the  oppressed  : — these  are  the  things  which  a 
true,  devout  soul,  who  is  an  ardent  lover  of  the  hills, 
learns  as  he  dwells  among  and  answers  to  the  mountains 
of  God.  And  if  any  man  ever  showed  these  qualities 
of  healthy  and  holy  manliness,  it  was  Ulrich  Zwingle 
of  Wildhaus. 

In  that  little  hamlet  on  the  Toggenburg  hills,  in  a 
still-standing  wooden  house,  on  the  first  day  of  January, 
1484,  did  Ulrich  or  Huldreich  Zwingle  see  the  light. 
The  Zwingles  were  an  old,  honored  and  self-respecting 
family.  For  Switzers  they  were  well-to-do  folk.  Their 
plain  but  comfortable  and  hospitable  home  rang  with 
the  merry  voices  of  lusty  and  kindly  childhood.  More 
than  even  the  Switzer's  wont  were  the  eight  boys  and 
the  one  girl  the  companions  and  the  delight  of  their 
shrewd,  brave,  patriotic  parents.  On  the  hills  by  day 
with  his  father  and  his  friends,  up  on  the  higher  pas- 
tures tending  the  cattle,  climbing  the  crags  in  chase  of 
the  marmot  or  in  search  of  nests,  watching  the  swoop 
of  the  eagle,  guarding  the  lambs,  startling  the  chamois, 
leaping  fearlessly  the  yawning  crevasse  and  sweeping 
in  the  fierce  delight  of  the  furious  "  glissade  "  down  the 
snow-clad  slopes, — thus  did  Huldreich,  "  rich  in  grace," 
grow  rapidly  up  into  a  tall,  athletic,  sure  and  swift- 
footed  young  mountaineer,  who  was  remarkable  even  as  a 
lad  for  bodily  strength  and  grace,  for  winsome  ways,  for 
unselfish  heart  and  fearless  courage.  The  brave  boy 
soon  made  himself  a  great  favorite.  And  small  wonder 
that  he  should,  with  his  keen,  far-reaching  eyes  that 
were  ever  ready  to  soften  into  a  smile  or  melt  in  sym- 
pathy ;  with  his  fair,  sharply-cut  and  expressive  face ; 


THE    HERO    OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  223 

with  his  sweet  and  strong  voice  rolling  out  over  mount- 
ain and  valley  in  songs  ;  with  his  singular  powers  of 
attention,  his  quick  seizure  of  the  points  in  dispute  be- 
tween contending  neighbors  who  came  for  the  settle- 
ment of  their  disputes  to  father  Zwingle,  as  the  petty 
magistrate  of  the  hamlet.  His  shrewd  father  and  his 
priestly  uncle  were  struck  and  delighted  with  his  rest- 
less curiosity,  his  exact  way  of  putting  a  question,  his 
pertinacity  in  seeking  fullest  information,  his  sharp  wit, 
his  unfailing  courtesy,  and  his  tenacious  memory.  Ul- 
rich  became  the  very  heart  of  the  home  circle,  and  was 
the  chosen  chief  of  all  the  bold  youth  of  the  hills.  At 
nights  when  kindly  summer  lay  around  them,  he  would 
sit  with  his  father  on  the  bridge-wall  or  on  the  great 
stone  seats  about  the  cottage  door  and  hear  the  men 
of  the  commune  talk,  while  his  wondering,  ever-gath- 
ering eyes  watched  the  broad  brows  of  the  solemn  hills 
grow  silvery  in  the  light  of  the  rising  moon.  At  nights 
when  grim  winter  lay  around  them,  he  would  lie  full- 
stretched  on  the  warm  skins  before  the  blazing  wood 
fire  and  listen  to  his  grandmother,  so  ripe  in  years  and 
yet  by  common  consent  the  freshest,  most  vivid  story- 
teller in  all  the  district,  as  she  would  tell  to  the  spell- 
bound group  of  children  and  of  well-pleased  adults  the 
moving  tales  of  her  own  youth,  and  the  more  weird 
facts  and  wondrous  fables  handed  down  by  her  own 
great-grandmother,  who  had  lived  to  rare  old  age,  and 
who  had  carried  down  with  her  the  far-off  traditions  of 
the  settlers  on  these  Appenzell  hills.  Stirring  tales 
these  were,  and  they  were  strikingly  told ;  tales  of  the 
daring  pioneers  who  had  felled  the  forests,  of  the  un- 
conquered  hillsmen  who  had  stopped  on  these  very 
heights  the  advance  of  the  Roman  legions,  of  the  deci- 


224  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

sive  battle  gained  by  the  Swiss  just  across  the  mountains 
at  Morgarten,  of  the  fierce  fights  that  had  reddened  the 
Toggenburg,  of  the  mountain  men's  blood-won  and  blood- 
kept  rights  and  freedom.  And  better  and  holier  tales, 
out  of  the  old  Hebrew  past,  she  told,  for  that  hoary- 
headed  talker  was  a  good  woman  and  full  of  faith,  and 
often  was  heard  in  the  night  praying  for  her  children 
and  grandchildren.  In  the  vivid  pictures  of  Ulrich's 
life  that  have  come  down  to  ns  we  can  see  it  all  again, 
— those  glowing  fires,  the  eager  youth  and  the  old 
granddame.  Many  hotly-contested  debates,  too,  would 
arise  at  times  around  that  large  old  fireplace ;  for  hither 
would  often  come  the  hillsmen  for  law,  and  not  seldom 
to  that  home  of  well-known  hospitality  came  travellers 
for  shelter  when  the  storm  was  bitter  and  the  snow  was 
blinding  on  the  mountains.  The  times  were  just  then 
growing  very  critical  for  the  Swiss,  and  questions  of 
foreign  policy  and  opinions  regarding  cantonal  rights 
were  often  consequently  in  keen  though  kindly  debate. 
Father  Zwingle  was  a  clear-thoughted,  free-spoken 
and  unusually  well-informed  man,  w^ho  always  encour- 
aged his  children  to  talk  and  fully  to  state  their  views 
of  the  matters  in  hand.  Ulrich,  a  born  controversialist, 
took  early  and  increasingly  his  part  in  these  conversa- 
tions and  contests.  Men  were  struck  by  the  lad's  mem- 
ory for  dates  and  facts,  by  his  sound  common  sense,  his 
quick  wit  and  his  apt  illustration.  He  was  a  precocious 
boy,  but  as  strong  in  body  as  in  mind,  and  as  full  of 
fun  as  he  was  of  love  for  the  wordy  war.  Thus  the 
hills  and  his  home  told,  and  well,  on  the  lad.  "  Friend 
Zwingle,  thou  shalt  make  the  lad  a  priest ;"  so  said  the 
neighbors.  "  Yes,"  said  the  well-to-do  "  amman,"  "  I 
have  long  ago  decided  him  for  the  schools."     The  shep- 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  225 

herd-father  and  the  priest-uncle  of  the  clever,  affection- 
ate and  promising  boy  had  talked  it  all  over  in  the  past 
summer,  and  had  settled  that  Ulrich  was  too  good  for 
the  herding  of  goats  and  for  warbling  on  the  hills.  The 
boy  of  truth  who  one  day  said,  "  Truth  is  the  mother  of 
all  virtues,"  who  was  thirsting  for  truth,  shall  drink 
deep  draughts  of  it. 

1493-1505.]    The  Pride  of  the  Schools. 

Such  in  all  truth  did  Zwingle  in  his  many  and  im- 
portant places  of  education  ever  prove.  His  scholastic 
career  was  one  unbroken  and  ever-enlarging  victory. 
He  was  always  far  in  advance  of  all  his  competitors. 
He  seemed  to  drink  in  the  lessons  of  his  masters.  Yet 
he  thought  as  well  as  received.  He  questioned  as  few 
other  pupils,  and  often  made  his  teachers  silent,  for  the 
full  answer  was  not  theirs  to  give,  and  his  teachers 
always  learned  that  only  the  bottom-reaching  answer 
would  satisfy  this  restless  sounder,  who  with  boldness 
and  skill  was  tireless  in  flinging  his  lead  out  into  the 
dark  and  mist-laden  waters.  First  down  to  the  little 
town  of  Wesen,  which  is  pleasantly  situated  at  the  west 
end  of  the  Wallenstadter  See,  somewhere  about  1493  did 
Ulrich  go.  There  his  uncle,  who  was  very  fond  of  the 
boy,  was  rural  dean ;  and  there,  too,  was  a  most  excel- 
lent and  well-attended  grammar-school,  one  of  the  best  of 
the  time.  But  soon  Huldreich  was  at  the  head  of  his 
class,  and  his  surprised  master  told  his  generous  and 
gratified  uncle  that  the  boy  must  go  to  the  collegiate 
school  at  Basle.  Basle,  beautiful  for  situation,  the  home 
of  Holbein  and  Erasmus,  the  shelter  of  Fox  and  the 
English  refugees,  where  the  "  Book  of  Martyrs  "  and  Cal- 
vin's "  Institutes  "  were  soon  to  be  printed,  was  even  in 


226  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

Zwingle's   youth  throbbing   with   the   life   of  the   new 
day. 

Here  on  the  historic  Rhine,  in  a  most  beautiful  part 
of  the  city,  amid  near  and  moving  monuments,  that 
were  for  generous  youth  full  of  impulse,  stood  the 
then  famous  seminary  of  St.  Theodore,  one  of  the  rich- 
est and  most  active  schools  of  Switzerland.  Several 
excellent  teachers  were  in  it  at  the  moment  of  Zwingle's 
entrance,  but  the  most  famous  was  Gregory  Binzli,  the 
chief  classical  master  of  northern  Switzerland,  the  friend 
of  Erasmus,  and  the  most  stimulating  thinker  and  in- 
spiration for  aspiring  youth.  Binzli  was  immediately 
drawn  to  the  young  scholar  so  far  in  solid  learning 
ahead  of  his  equals  in  years,  and  so  soon  able  to  take 
his  place  among  the  quickest  and  most  advanced  pupils 
of  the  school.  Binzli  gave  himself  very  largely  to  de- 
velop the  independence  and  the  originality  of  the 
youthful  minds  that  were  placed  under  him.  He  is  re- 
ported to  have  once  said,  "  Give  them  books  to  read  if 
you  wdll;  /  want  to  stir  up  the  gift  of  God  that  is  in 
them."  From  Basle  of  the  great  council,  where  not  a 
few  of  Wycliffe's  books  had  been  reprinted  and  were 
then  well  read,  where  the  burgesses  showed  so  high 
nobility  and  signal  independence,  our  hero  passed  next 
to  the  capital  city  of  Berne.  The  man  yet  to  touch 
Swiss  life  all  round  is,  you  see,  touching  every  side  of 
Swiss  life ;  and  just  then  Swiss  life  was  touched  by  all 
the  life  of  that  critical  day.  In  Switzerland  you  would 
then  meet  the  busy  Englishman,  also  the  Waldensian 
peddler  coming  from  Lyons  with  his  silks  and  velvets, 
and  some  books  of  John  of  Oxford  or  of  Prague  hidden 
in  his  pack,  the  papal  legates  who  were  seeking  soldiers 
to  fight  the  battles  of  the  Vatican,  and  the  searcher  for 


THE    HERO    OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  227 

and  the  seller  of  the  eagerly-sought  and  quickly-sold 
Latin  and  Greek  manuscripts.  Ulrich,  always  by  his 
priest-uncle's  advice  placed  under  foremost  masters,  is 
now  studying  at  Berne  under  the  celebrated  Lupulus, 
one  of  the  chief  humanists  and  philosophers  of  his  time. 
Zwingle  is  soon  in  Berne  at  his  old  point,  the  head  of 
the  school ;  of  him,  generous  and  glad-hearted  as  he  ever 
is,  his  fellow  students  boast  with  an  honest  and  cheery 
pride  ;  to  him  the  masters  devote  themselves  with  a  keen 
joy  and  high  hope.  He  is  now  giving  himself,  in  spare 
moments,  to  the  cultivation  of  his  rare  voice  and  his 
great  musical  powers.  There  are  others  beside  students 
and  teachers  who  have  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  masterly 
youth  and  the  passionate  musician  and  the  rare-voiced 
singer  :  the  monks  of  the  Dominican  convent  covet  him. 
There  is  a  deadly  feud  just  then  raging  between  the 
Franciscans  and  the  Dominicans.  They  are  striving 
eagerly  to  defeat  and  humble  each  the  other  before  the 
burgesses  and  the  mob  of  the  great  city.  The  Domini- 
cans are  employing  every  trick  and  artifice  within  reach 
or  to  be  invented,  from  bribes  and  blasphemous  false 
miracles  to  the  improvement  of  their  choirs  by  the  ac- 
quisition of  a  splendid  voice  and  the  increased  power  of 
their  pulpit  by  the  winning  of  the  most  promising 
scholar,  the  best  debater  and  the  most  popular  speaker 
of  the  schools.  The  Dominicans  set  their  traps  for 
Ulrich.  But  there  is  a  watchful  uncle  at  Wesen,  and  a 
resolute  father  on  the  hills.  They  act  decisively  but 
secretly,  and  ere  the  friars  know  of  his  departure,  young 
Zwingle  is  halfway  to  Vienna,  and  has  escaped  the 
monks  and  their  damnable  and  diabolical  trickery  and 
projects,  which  very  soon  after  became  the  scandal  of 
Switzerland  and  the  shame  of  the  order,  if  the  Domini- 
cans could  be  shamed. 


228  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

Zwingle's  father,  like  Luther's  and  Savonarola's,  hated 
the  monks ;  and  the  Switzer  succeeded  in  saving  his 
bright  and  chaste  boy  from  the  degrading  company  of 
the  Bernese  friars  by  sending  him  to  the  great  schools 
of  Vienna.  That  day  was  the  very  heyday  of  Austrian 
glory,  prosperity,  ambition,  arts  and  science.  Here 
another  world  opened  to  the  young  mountaineer  her 
vast  and  varied  stores  of  wealth,  of  historic  interest,  of 
growing  libraries  and  cultured  wisdom.  Maximilian  the 
First  was  emperor,  and  beside  him  on  the  throne  sat  the 
daughter  of  Charles  the  Bold,  who  had  made  Austria 
richer  than  ever  by  the  addition  of  the  Netherlands. 
Standing  by  the  side  of  the  emperor  was  his  royal  son 
Philip,  who  by  his  marriage  with  Joanna  of  Spain  had 
linked  the  power  and  prestige  of  proud  Spain  and  the 
wealth  of  the  Indies  to  the  house  of  the  heavy-lipped 
Hapsburgs.  At  that  time,  consequently,  Vienna  was 
the  very  centre  of  the  political  world ;  and  a  chief  seat 
of  learning  she  promised  to  become,  for  she  was,  under 
the  fostering  care  and  far-sighted  policy  of  her  rulers, 
quickly  drawing  to  herself  not  a  few  of  those  who  were 
leaders  in  the  several  worlds  of  art,  music,  science, 
classics,  philosophy  and  theology.  The  boy  who  had 
made  himself  the  leader  on  the  hills  and  had  stood  first 
in  all  his  schools  is  now,  though  but  sixteen  and  a  half 
years,  a  man  in  wisdom :  and  he  made  that  busy, 
wealthy,  plotting,  much-frequented,  enterprising  capital 
yield  to  him  rich  stores  for  his  future  fight  with  royal 
despots  and  the  papal  tyrant. 

In  1502,  Ulrich  is  found  resting  and  recruiting  in  the 
old  home  at  Wildhaus.  For  that  dear  house  and  his 
brave  and  self-denying  father  he  ever  manifested  a  deep- 
ening affection.  Thither  he  frequently  turned  in  after 
years  when  worn  out  by  work  and  worried  by  men.     No 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  229 

puling  recluse  was  he,  nor  morbid  ascetic ;  he  was  now 
a  stalwart,  full-grown  man,  but  he  was  as  fleet  of  foot 
and  as  full  of  fun  as  in  the  days  of  his  boyhood.  He 
was  the  first  to  scale  the  cliff,  the  readiest  to  carry  the 
heaviest  burden,  the  boldest  to  chase  the  eagle,  the  mer- 
riest and  most  songful  by  the  fireside,  and  the  purest 
and  most  reverent  in  the  village  and  in  his  varied 
schools.  After  this  happy  and  needful  rest  he  returns 
to  Basle  and  plunges  eagerly  into  the  higher  classics, 
into  the  profound  philosophy  and  theology  of  Aquinas 
and  the  other  great  schoolmen.  These  old  thinkers  are 
nowadays  by  a  fashion  of  speech  only  derided  and  ridi- 
culed ;  yet  they  stirred  and  exercised  the  minds  and 
souls,  the  very  loftiest  thoughts  and  most  speculative 
powers,  of  the  many  men  who  have  reshaped  the  philo- 
sophic and  scientific  centuries  lying  between  the  world 
of  Francis  Bacon  and  the  self-complacent  world  of  to- 
day. The  lighter  studies  and  the  favorite  relaxation  of 
Zvvingle  were  song  and  music.  He  was  now  a  most 
skilled  vocalist  and  thoroughly  well-trained  musician. 
He  could  take  up  lute,  violin,  flute,  dulcimer,  shepherd's 
pipe  or  hunter's  horn,  and  accompany  his  own  inimitable 
"joedel"  or  his  ringing  ballad  with  skill  and  taste  upon 
any  of  these  diverse  instruments.  One  of  his  merry 
friends  asked  him  one  day  if  he  was  ''  a  descendant  of 
the  bandmaster  on  the  plains  of  Dura."  In  the  Novem- 
ber of  1505  there  came  to  Basle  from  Tubingen  Thomas 
Wittenbach,  the  friend  and  fellow  worker  of  the  famous 
Reuchlin.  Round  this  master  of  polite  literature,  of  the 
ancient  tongues,  of  mathematics,  and  better  still  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  and  their  fresh  theology,  all  the  eager 
youth  of  the  colleges  rallied ;  and  foremost  and  most 
promising  was  Zwingle.     Here   for  the  first  time  he 


230  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

seems  to  open  his  heart  to  the  joy  of  the  gospeh  One 
day  Wittenbach  said,  "  The  doctrine  of  indulgences  is  a 
groundless  dogma,  the  death  of  Christ  is  the  one  need- 
ful atonement  for  our  sins ;"  and  the  soul  of  Ulrich 
Zvvingle  drank  in  the  life-giving  words  ;  and  from  that 
hour,  if  ever  within,  he  really  stood  outside  the  lines  of 
the  Church  of  Rome.  Together  with  this  great  gain, 
he  made  about  the  same  time  one  of  his  best  life  friends, 
Leo  Juda,  "  the  little  lion,"  as  Zwingle  was  wont  to 
playfully  call  him,  a  true  man  who  never  failed  the 
reformer  in  many  a  hard  fight  and  saddening  day. 

With  these  broadly  and  richly-cultivated  tastes  and 
gifts,  with  his  most  liberal  education,  extensive  reading, 
large  and  ripe  experience,  and  a  goodly  band  of  rare 
and  devoted  friends  about  him,  Zwingle  stands  a  well- 
furnished  scholar  and  untiring  student,  ready  for  his 
life-work ;  and  right  speedily  it  comes  to  him.  And  it 
comes  with  a  presage  of  his  chief  work, — that  first 
labor  of  the  free  son  of  the  hills. 

The  large  town  and  parish  of  Glaris  wants  a  priest 
and  pastor.  The  pope  wants  the  chief  parish  of  the  pop- 
ulous and  prosperous  canton  for  one  of  his  chief  favorites, 
one  Henry  Goldi,  and  the  people  want  as  priest  their 
young  mountaineer.  The  pope  commands ;  the  intel- 
ligent, independent  people  refuse.  It  is  now  pope 
against  the  folk,  and  the  people  win  the  day.  Zwingle 
begins  his  public  life  as  the  opponent  of  the  Vatican,  as 
the  friend  of  popular  rights  and  the  asserter  of  the  lib- 
erties of  the  people ;  as  such  he  is  welcomed  by  toAvn 
and  country,  and  as  such,  though  a  consecrated  priest, 
he  enters  on  his  parish  work.  The  victor  in  that  con- 
test shall  yet  be  conqueror  on  a  grander  and  nobler 
field. 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  231 

1506,  Dec]        The  Popular  Preacher. 

Zwingle  is  now  the  patient,  plodding  priest  of  a  vast 
and  important  parish.  To  his  exacting  and  exhaustive 
work  he  gave  himself  with  all  his  characteristic  zeal, 
his  wisdom  and  tact.  In  that  new  school  he  was  learn- 
ing lessons  that  were  already  moving  him  forward  on 
a  path  he  knew  not.  Face  to  face  with  the  real  wants 
of  men,  and  dealing  with  the  sick  and  dying,  he  soon 
came  to  feel  and  realize  that  something  more  than  the 
ceremonial  consolations  of  the  Church  and  her  so-called 
salvatory  sacraments  are  needed  to  make  men  live  holy 
lives  and  die  peaceful  deaths.  The  close  study  I  have 
been  making  of  his  life  lately,  and  that  which  I  made 
in  Zurich  some  years  ago,  have  led  me  to  believe  that 
Ulrich  Zwingle  was  never  what  D' Aubigne  says  he  was 
at  the  early  period  of  his  ministry,  "just  what  other 
priests  around  him  were."  He  was  never  an  unprin- 
cipled hireling,  nor  unchaste.  Zwingle  was  in  the 
Church  of  Rome,  but  not  of  it.  He  was  a  Protestant 
long  before  he  himself  knew  it. 

Those  opening  days  of  Zwingle's  ministry  were  days 
of  sad  temptation  for  the  poor  and  brave  Swiss.  They 
were  seduced  by  the  large  bribes  of  the  popes  and 
Italian  princes  to  enter  their  service  as  mercenaries. 
Going  up  and  down  the  hills  and  dales  of  eastern  and 
northern  Helvetia  enrolling  troops  was  one  very  remark- 
able man,  Schinner.  Then  he  was  a  high  and  influential 
dignitary  in  the  Church,  bishop,  cardinal,  papal  legate 
and  the  chief  recruiting  officer  of  the  Vatican.  A  very  few 
years  before  he  had  begged  along  the  road  near  Sion. 
A  man  looked  him  one  day  sharply  in  the  face  and  said 
emphatically,  "  Yon'll  not  beg  all  your  life ;  you'll  die 
either  prince  or  bishop."     Schinner  swore  it  should  be 


232  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

true.  And  he  made  it  true ;  he  was  nearing  his  arch- 
bishopric at  the  time  when  Zwingle  was  toiling  busily  in 
his  parish.  Schinner,  to  make  his  higher  episcopal  seat 
secure  and  soon  to  gain  it,  came  on  a  fresh  recruiting 
tour.  He  stirs  all  the  youth  of  Graubunden  and  Glaris; 
to  the  Italian  wars  the}^  flock ;  and  as  olden  wont  was 
and  cantonal  law  required,  the  banner  must  be  guarded 
by  the  priest-ensign.  Zwingle  goes  out  with  the  flag. 
The  camp  is  thus  Ulrich's  next  school;  Italy  and  the  rule 
of  the  pope  his  fresh  study.  But  neither  parish  nor  plots 
nor  pope  could  in  this  resolute  truth-seeker  kill  the 
student.  The  true  man  will  master  circumstances ;  and 
Zwingle  makes  that  foray  into  Italy  and  the  very  camp 
help  him  in  his  ever-pushed  and  ever-progressive  studies. 
While  in  Italy  he  collects  classical  and  theological  books, 
and  no  sooner  is  he  home  once  more  than  he  is  deeper 
than  ever  in  his  Greek  Testament  and  more  eagerly  than 
ever  is  he  searching  the  works  of  Augustine,  Origen  and 
Chrysostom.  All  unconsciously  yet  really  he  is  gath- 
ering stores  for  the  day  of  struggle  with  papal  pol- 
iticians and  of  open  breach  with  the  Church  of  tradition 
but  not  of  truth.  Some  months  of  busy  work  and  of 
strange  preaching  for  a  parish  pulpit  of  that  day  now 
passed  onward ;  then  for  rest  and  instruction  Zwingle 
went  over  the  mountains  to  Basle  to  pay  a  visit  to  Eras- 
mus, who  was  busy  with  his  books,  poems  and  satires, 
impelling  man  after  man  to  take  a  step  which  he  had 
never  the  moral  earnestness  and  self-denial  himself  to 
take.  The  satirical  scholar  was  quickly  and  strongly 
drawn  to  the  young  priest  of  Glaris,  whose  general 
learning  and  knowledge  of  the  classics,  whose  power  of 
repeating  Pindar,  Hesiod,  Homer  and  Seneca,  astonished 
the   master-humanist  of  the   hour.     He  gave   Zwingle 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  233 

his  own  copy  of  the  Gospel  of  John ;  and  from  his  thin 
lips  and  caustic  tongue  he  poured  his  bitter  denuncia- 
tions of  the  state  of  the  Church  and  his  scathing  expo- 
sure of  the  horrible  scandals  of  the  time.  That  friendship, 
did  not  last ;  but  the  effect  of  that  conversation  lasted : 
and  two  other  then  made  friendships  did  continue 
through  life,  and  form  very  important  factors  in  the 
life  and  battles  and  posthumous  victories  of  Zwingle. 
These  two  abiding  friendships  were  those  with  Q^co- 
lampadius  and  with  Myconius.  After  this  stimulating 
visit  and  with  his  prized  Gospel  Zwingle  returns  to  his 
work.  Soon  the  blare  of  the  war-horns  is  again  heard 
through  the  glens  and  across  the  mountains  of  Glaris 
and  Schwyz  and  Appenzell,  and  once  more,  but  now 
very  reluctantly,  Zwingle  must  take  the  parish-banner 
and  march  with  his  parish-band.  Zwingle  has  by  this 
time  become  very  strongly  opposed  to  these  frequent 
withdrawals  of  the  youth  and  manhood  of  the  land  to 
fight  these  battles  of  the  foreigner.  He  longs  and  labors 
to  see  the  Swiss  band  themselves  together  in  one  strong 
league  against  all  comers.  But  here,  as  in  so  many 
other  things,  he  w^as  far  ahead  of  his  times.  He  went 
to  Italy,  and  in  due  time  on  to  Rome.  That  visit  told. 
The  close  sight  and  face-to-face  study  of  that  papal 
land,  and  still  more  of  the  papal  city,  sickened  the 
healthy  soul  of  the  honest  mountaineer.  From  our 
other  studies  of  reform  times  you  have  learned  the 
scandalous  state  of  Rome  and  the  priesthood,  and  it  is 
needless  to  touch  that  rottenness  any  more.  Zwingle 
had  seen  the  license  and  the  lusts  of  the  mercenaries' 
camp,  he  had  seen  the  Pompeian  debaucheries  of  Flor- 
ence, he  had  seen  the  wantonness  of  luxurious  Vienna, 
he  knew  what  the  villainies  of  the  great  cities  were,  but 
16 


234  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

never  anything  like  Rome  had  he  beheld,  and  the  Vat- 
ican itself  was  the  Capri  of  that  hour.  Those  were  the 
days  of  Leo  the  Tenth,  who  jested  with  his  secretary 
"  on  the  profitableness  to  them  of  the  fable  of  Christ." 
If  you  would  know  this  Leo,  read  Browning's  poem,  the 
"  Bishop  of  St.  Praxed."  About  this  date  it  was  that 
Zwingle  made  his  next  great  advance  :  the  special  and 
the  devout  reading  of  God's  word,  and  his  recognition  of 
it  as  the  rule  of  faith.  We  are  told  by  his  closest  and 
best-informed  friends  that  he  now  gave  himself  almost 
exclusively  to  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and 
that  as  he  searched  "  Zwingle  looked  to  heaven,  not 
wishing  for  any  better  interpreter  than  the  Holy  Spirit." 
At  this  early  date  (1515-16),  moreover,  he  was  teach- 
ing his  people  Bible  doctrine  and  openly  stating  that 
the  Bible  was  the  sole  infallible  authority  in  matters  of 
faith  and  practice.  His  parish  was  moved  by  his  fresh 
teachings.  His  foes,  political  and  papal,  are  accusing 
and  assailing,  and  his  friends  like  Myconius  are  rejoicing 
over  a  "  work  altogether  divine,"  saying,  "  It.  is  thus 
the  knowledge  of  divine  truth  is  to  be  restored  to  us." 
The  preacher  of  Glaris  has  ceased  to  be  a  mere  mass- 
celebrating  priest,  and  is  now  the  gospel-teacher  of  men. 
Still  he  does  not  see  that  he  has  broken  with  Rome. 
But  he  is  already  in  this  year  1515  the  reformer  of 
Helvetia. 

1516-1531.]    The  Advanced  Reformer. 

The  bold  and  devoted  student  who  in  January,  1513, 
wrote  to  a  friend  that  he  was  now  giving  himself  "  to 
the  study  of  the  Greek  Testament  that  out  of  the  fount- 
ains might  be  drawn  the  doctrine  of  Christ;"  the 
parish  priest  who  had  been /or  OtfuUyeor  witnessing  for 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  235 

Christ  when  in  1516  he  wrote,  "  this  is  the  spring  time, 
and  is  the  season  for  sowing,"  and  the  busy  sower  who 
always  afterwards  called  that  seed-time  ''  the  beginning 
of  the  Swiss  reformation ;"  this  brave  reformer  is  now 
about  to  appear  on  the  most  public  highway  of  Rome, 
and  there  point  boldly  and  clearly  to  the  Lamb  of  God 
as  the  only  sacrifice  for  sin  and  the  only  hope  of  sin- 
ners. Yes,  the  very  highway  of  Rome  is  to  be  the 
strange  scene  of  his  first  undisguised  assault  on  the 
deceiver  and  the  despot !  What  Lourdes  is  to-day, 
what  Loretto  has  been,  that  was  Einsiedeln  at  the  morn- 
ing of  the  Reformation !  The  boast  and  the  very  gold 
mine  of  the  mother  of  mysteries  was  that  old  Benedictine 
hermitage, — the  hotbed  of  superstition  and  the  scene  of 
triumphant  priestcraft  and  of  bigotry.  There,  on  a  fair 
and  wooded  knoll  between  the  lakes  of  Zurich  and  Wallen, 
in  the  very  heart  of  most  perfect  scenery  and  within 
the  easiest  reach  of  the  great  highways  of  the  land  and 
of  its  most  majestic  splendors,  halted  one  afternoon  to- 
wards the  close  of  the  ninth  century  a  weary  hermit. 
There  he  stayed.  Thence  his  fame  for  sanctity  spread 
abroad,  and  thither  many  came  for  prayer  and  for  con- 
solation. And  a  shrine  rose  beside  the  hermit's  hut, 
which  grew  rich  in  gifts.  And  thither  the  brutal  forest 
ruffians  came  who,  one  moonless  night,  dyed  the  sod 
with  the  old  man's  blood  and  robbed  his  cell.  On  that 
very  spot,  it  was  said  by  the  wonder-mongers  of  the 
darkest  days  of  the  tenth  century,  were  heard  heavenly 
voices ;  and  there  too  had  the  Vii'gin  showed  herself  to 
the  eyes  of  the  devout !  Unto  this  annunciation  and  to 
this  apparition  had  the  pope  himself  testified,  and  the  bull 
of  Leo  the  Eighth  had  made  faith  in  all  these  alleged 
miracles  obligatory  on  the  faithful.     Multitudes  flocked 


236  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

thither  on  the  pilgrimages.  Money  flowed  into  the 
Church  cofiers,  and  the  "  Hermitage  of  our  Lady  Ein- 
siedeln  and  the  Holy  Angels  "  became  the  Lourdes  of 
those  times.  Some  sixteen  years  ago,  at  the  great  Sep- 
tember "  festival  of  the  dedication,"  that  gorgeous  ab- 
bey stood  before  me  full  in  view,  and  up  the  roads  and 
along  the  paths  and  across  the  hills  gathered  and  rolled 
huge  tides  of  human  life ;  in  and  in  and  round  and  round 
they  poured  till,  it  was  computed,  some  130,000  men, 
women  and  children  had  congregated  together,  and  for 
what  ?  the  worship  of  the  black  stock  of  wood,  the 
alleged  God-given  image  of  the  adored  Mary.  And  to- 
day, so  far  as  I  know,  you  may  see  in  September  that 
same  scene  which  I  beheld,  and  on  Avhich  Ulrich  Zwin- 
gie  looked  when  the  crowd  swelled  to  250,000  and  no 
man  dared  to  call  the  worship  fellest  idolatry !  No 
man  !  Yes  ;  soon  it  will  be  so  called  by  a  man  whom  God 
has  been  preparing  for  years,  by  a  splendid  course  that 
left  him  without  the  fear  of  man,  and  which  had  fully 
freed  him  from  that  paralyzing  dread  of  Rome  and  that 
awe  for  her  proud  head  which  had  silenced  many  a  sick- 
ened and  indignant  soul  before  Zwingle's  day !  To 
this  idol-shrine  Zwingle  had  been  called  a  preacher  in 
1516  ;  thither  came  he  nothing  doubting ;  and  there  God, 
who  led  him,  had  been  making  things  ready  to  his  hands. 
At  that  time  of  crisis  for  Switzerland  and  of  nearing 
battle  for  the  Christ  of  the  gospel  and  for  the  liberty 
wherewith  Christ  had  made  his  people  free,  the  God  of 
providence  had  placed  at  Einsiedeln  two  men  of  influ- 
ence and  authority  who  were  longing  for  light,  for  hope 
and  the  peace  of  God— Conrad  of  Rechberg  and  Theo- 
bald of  Geroldseck.  What  the  Saxon  knights  and  the 
elector  were  to  Luther  in  his  moment  of  struggle,  that 


THE    HERO   OF   HELVETIC    REFORM.  237 

were  this  abbot  and  this  administrator  of  Einsiedeln  to 
the  reformer  of  Helvetia,  for  that  Zwingle  now  is.  For 
a  time,  as  was  ever  his  wont,  he  watched  events  and 
studied  the  situation.  All  the  while  he  was  reading  his 
Bible,  advancing  in  his  knowledge  of  the  word  and  in 
his  spiritual  life,  and  growing  in  his  prayerfulness  and 
his  reliance  on  the  Holy  Ghost  to  teach  him,  as  he  says 
himself,  not  the  "  letter  but  the  spirit  of  the  written 
word,  for  the  outward  letter  cannot  establish  faith  ;  only 
the  inward  drawing  and  illumination  of  the  Spirit  can 
do  this."  "  The  Scriptures  come  from  God,  not  from 
man,  and  even  that  God  who  enlightens  will  give  thee  to 
understand  that  the  speech  comes  from  God."  "  When 
I  came  to  see  that  I  must  let  all  lie  and  learn  the  mean- 
ing of  God  purely  out  of  his  own  simple  word,  and 
when  I  began  to  pray  for  his  light,  then  the  Scriptures 
grew  much  easier  to  me,  and  I  came  to  have  an  unde- 
ceived understanding  to  which  I  never  could  have  come 
in  following  the  littleness  of  my  own  understanding." 
Thus  was  he  at  Einsiedeln  busy  reading  the  two  great 
books  of  the  true  preacher  and  the  resistless  reformer, 
the  holy  word  and  the  wretched  human  heart.  As  he 
mused  the  fire  burned.  And  right  soon  and  boldly  he 
spake  out  into  the  very  crowd  of  the  astonished  pil- 
grims. Side  by  side  with  those  two  stirring  pictures, 
the  scenes  and  occasions  of  which  both  belong  to  a  later 
day — the  scene  of  Luther  nailing  up  his  theses  and  the 
scene  of  Knox  administering  the  communion  in  both 
kinds  at  St.  Andrews — I  should  like  to  set  this  splendid 
scene  and  decisive  act,  Ulrich  Zwingle  preaching  Christ 
at  the  Benedictine  hermitage !  See  the  old  abbey  of 
Einsiedeln,  the  countless  multitude  awed  and  alarmed, 
yet    charmed ;    see    the    tall,  attractive    and    powerful 


238  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

preacher  of  two-and-thirty  years  of  age,  with  sweetest 
voice  and  ripe  scholarship  and  rare  art  of  convincing 
speech  ;  see  the  magnetic  man  of  burning  soul  who  holds 
that  vast  audience  spell-bound  by  words  which  no  one 
had  yet  uttered  to  the  gathered  world  of  Rome's  dev- 
otees, and  in  the  very  stronghold  of  her  mystic  rites ; 
see  him  deliberately  pointing  to  the  image  of  the  Virgin 
as  he  says,  "  Think  not  that  God  is  more  in  this  temple 
than  in  any  other  part  of  his  creation.  Whatever  be  the 
land  of  your  homes,  God  is  around  you  and  hears  you 
as  much  as  at  our  Lady  of  Einsiedeln.  Shall  it  be  use- 
less works,  long  pilgrimages,  offerings,  images,  calling 
upon  the  Virgin  and  the  saints,  that  are  to  obtain  for  you 
God's  favor  ?  Of  what  consequence  is  the  multitude  of 
words  that  we  introduce  into  our  prayers  ?  What  mat- 
ters a  gray  hood,  a  well-shaven  head,  a  long,  well-folded 
robe ;  and  gilded  slippers  ?"  (on  the  images  to  which  he 
was  pointing.)  "  God  looks  at  the  heart,  and  our  heart 
is  far  from  God.  Not  here  is  '  plenary  absolution  to  be 
found  from  all  sin ' "  (inscribed  by  order  of  the  pope  on 
the  church  door),  "but  Christ,  who  once  for  all  hath 
offered  himself  on  the  cross,  is  the  sacrifice  and  victim 
that  makes  the  satisfaction  throughout  all  eternity  for 
the  sins  of  all  believers."  The  daring  grandeur  is  sub- 
lime,— that  lone  man  amid  those  thousands  ! 

The  earthquake  had  come.  That  sermon  was  the 
crisis.  As  from  Pentecost  they  went  over  all  the  world 
of  Jewish  colonies  telling  of  the  resurrection  and  of  the 
baptism  of  the  Spirit;  so  over  the  world  of  Romish 
fable  and  superstition  they  went  with  the  news  of  Ein- 
siedeln, and  broadly  they  spread  the  grand  theme  of 
the  preacher,  "Christ,  he  alone  saves,  and  he  saves 
everywhere." 


THE    HERO   OF   HELVETIC    REFORM.  239 

So  through  1518  he  went  preaching  sermons  that  are 
called  by  a  very  competent  witness,  Hedio,  "  beautiful^ 
thorough,  solemn,  comprehensive,  penetrating,  evangel- 
ical, in  the  power  of  their  language  reminding  one  of 
the  oldest  of  the  church-fathers."  Many  monks  and 
nuns  left  the  retreats  !  The  people  gave  no  more  their 
offerings  at  the  shrines ;  and  everywhere  souls  were 
turning  to  the  living  Christ  instead  of  that  blackened 
stock !  Rome  heard  of  it.  But  Switzerland  could  not 
be  roughly  dealt  with ;  and  Zwingle  was  too  much  a 
power  in  Helvetia  for  the  troop-needing  Vatican  to  pro- 
ceed to  extremities.  Hence  a  long  papal  brief,  urging 
caution,  was  written  to  Zwingle  by  Pucci,  the  apostolic 
nuncio  of  the  wily  pope ;  and  to  shut  the  reformer's 
mouth  Leo  created  him  "  acolyte-chaplain."  But  at  the 
very  moment  that  brief  came  Zwingle  was  busy  proving 
to  the  silenced  and  defeated  apologist  for  Rome,  the 
lord-cardinal  of  Sion,  who  had  come  to  argue  with  and 
silence  the  hot-headed  Swiss  priest,  "  that  the  whole 
papacy  rested  on  a  rotten  foundation,  as  Holy  Scripture 
makes  plain."  They  had  silenced  by  their  bribes  and 
their  threats  Erasmus,  but  they  found  a  man  of  other 
mettle  in  the  "Eagle  of  Helvetia."  Another  fight  is 
nearing,  and  the  dauntless  lad  who  had  stood  alone 
with  God  on  the  snowy  top  of  Sentis  is  now  ready  as 
Christ's  champion  to  stand  in  the  gap  and  bar  the  way 
against  the  Swiss  peddler  of  indulgences.  Samson  and 
Zwingle  met ;  bitter  was  the  fight ;  but  the  peddler  fled 
to  Rome,  and  the  bold  preacher  stood  crowned,  with  the 
plaudits  of  his  land  ringing  around  him  and  amid  the 
laughter  of  delight  at  the  pope's  defeat.  Now  there  is 
no  doubt  about  Ulrich's  place.  He  is  the  hero  of  the 
Helvetic  reform.     Ready  he  is  for  a  grander,  wider  and 


240  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

more  influential  sphere ;  and  the  place  is  ready  for  him. 
Zurich,  ever  to  be  henceforth  linked  with  his  immortal 
name  and  work,  calls  him  to  be  the  cathedral  preacher ; 
and  in  spite  of  the  bitter  opposition  of  all  the  papal 
party  now  his  antagonists,  he  is  soon  standing  in  the 
chief  pulpit  of  that  hour  in  Switzerland,  and  "  straight- 
way he  preached  Christ,"  not  Church,  to  them. 

That  city  of  surpassing  beauty,  girt  with  the  hills 
and  graced  with  the  lake,  was  in  that  day  the  chief 
centre  of  religious  and  political  life  and  interest.  Above 
Berne  and  Basle  and  Geneva  she  then  stood.  Over  against 
her  as  foe  and  hater  was  Lucerne,  the  stronghold  of  the 
Romish  band.  Zurich  was  then  the  home  of  brave  men 
and  of  bold  movements  ;  and  needed  a  master  of  men, 
a  man  who  could  like  Paul  be  all  things  to  all  men  for 
the  gospel's  sake,  a  man  of  far-sighted  sagacity  and 
statesmanlike  tact,  a  man  who  was  through  and  through 
a  patriot,  a  man  who  could  rescue  his  fellow  citizens 
from  the  toils  of  the  papal  intriguers,  save  the  brave 
youth  for  their  own  land  and  win  the  souls  of  men  to 
the  light  of  God  and  to  the  love  of  Christ.  And  the 
lion-city  found  her  man  in  the  "  Lion  of  Zurich."  Zwin- 
gle  stood  the  bravest  mid  the  brave  ! 

Soon  a  truer  bravery  is  called  for  at  his  hands.  God 
lays  him  down  in  sharp  and  serious  sickness.  The 
strong  man  never  bowed  before.  Work  must  cease.  He 
must  lie  and  wait  and  be  still.  At  last  he  rises,  limp, 
almost  lifeless,  and  goes  to  the  baths  of  Pfeffers.  There 
in  his  convalescence  the  inner  man  of  the  heart  was 
strangely  enlarged.  God  was  making  him  fit  for  a  sorer 
strain,  and  training  him  to  a  holier  daring.  The  ter- 
rific plague  broke  out  in  Zurich.  Like  Luther  and 
George  Wishart,  Zwingle  sent  away  the  weaker  and  the 


THE    HERO    OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  241 

younger  men,  and  took  on  himself  the  work  of  death. 
Those  dark  days  of  Wittenberg,  Dundee  and  Zurich 
were  the  moments  when  Christly  strength  and  sympathy 
were  seen  brightly  shining  in  our  Saxon,  Scotch  and 
Swiss  heroes ;  alone  they  stood  with  the  dying  and  the 
dead,  despair  everywhere  save  in  their  own  Spirit-sus- 
tained souls  and  words.  The  plague  passed ;  but 
Zwingle  sank  once  more,  and  the  word  swept  like  a 
wail  over  the  land  that  he  was  dead.  But  he  arose  as 
from  the  grave.  Now  his  life  was  hid  with  Christ  in 
God.  A  fuller  consecration  marked  him.  His  preach- 
ing grows  more  expository,  more  full  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament glory  of  God  and  of  the  New  Testament  grace : 
the  supreme  sovereignty  of  the  Lord  and  the  solitary 
sacrifice  of  the  Lamb  are  the  two  pivotal  points  of  his 
theology.  Zwingle  becomes  the  beloved  centre  and  the 
acknowledged  head  of  the  "  formative  forces  of  the 
Swiss  movement."  Learned  men  are  corresponding  with 
him ;  and  influential  cities  are  sending  for  him  to  come 
for  public  discussions.  Young  men  rally  with  enthu- 
siasm to  his  side.  He  is  the  host  and  the  shield  of  the 
Protestant  refugees,  victims  of  the  persecuting  Charles. 
Rome  now  fawns,  now  flatters ;  at  last  plots  and  threat- 
ens. Then  come  great  public  assemblies  and  sharp  de- 
bates. Zwingle  makes  Zurich  and  the  surrounding 
parts  ring  with  his  bold  words  and  full  gospel  teaching. 
Out  of  this  year  of  prayer,  of  deeper  study  of  the 
word,  of  most  independent  thinking  and  keen  debates, 
arose  the  fullest,  the  freest  and  most  clean-cut  form  and 
the  most  distinctively  God-honoring  spirituality  which 
the  Reformation  had  yet  taken.  In  1523  Zwingle  col- 
lected into  one  body  of  divinity  what  he  had  been 
teaching  for  several  years.    There  we  see  distinctly  and 


242  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

beyond  challenge  the  most  commanding  man  of  Switzer- 
land, and  the  most  advanced,  systematic  and  liberal  re- 
former of  that  hour.  Calvin,  who  came  after  Zwingle, 
surpassed  him  in  many  points ;  but  no  other  man  did. 
Four  kings  they  are,  Martin  Luther,  Ulrich  Zwingle, 
John  Calvin  and  John  Knox,  and  to  them  would  I  ever, 
as  to  the  God-given  chiefs  in  that  glorious  revolt,  yield 
leal-hearted  homage.  They  are  like,  they  are  unlike. 
They  are  grand  complementaries.  Together  they  form 
a  magnificent  unity — Luther  the  conservative  reformer, 
Calvin  the  systematic  reformer,  Knox  the  adminis- 
trative reformer,  and  Zwingle  the  radical  reformer.  Lu- 
ther was  the  cautious  and  conservative  breaker-up  of 
the  way,  Zwingle  was  the  dashing  yet  clear-sighted 
revolutionary,  the  thorough  radical ;  Calvin  stood  strong 
and  vsymmetric  between  and  grasped  each  by  the  hand. 
Using  French  phrases  of  parliamentary  life,  Luther 
stood  on  the  extreme  right,  Zwingle  on  the  extreme  left, 
and  Calvin  was  the  centre  ;  each  having  his  own  unique 
and  supreme  excellencies;  each  having  his  faults  and  his 
defects.  How  well  it  has  ended  for  the  Church  !  He 
who  gave  the  complementary  forces  of  the  apostolate  to 
the  infant  Church,  who  joined  Peter  and  John  and 
James  and  Paul ;  he  who  gave  the  balancing  and  mu- 
tually-correcting great  fathers ;  that  sovereign  and  all- 
wise  Spirit,  who  worketh  where  and  when  and  how  he 
chooseth,  gave  in  his  grace  and  wisdom  to  the  Church, 
in  the  critical  day  of  the  grand  revolt,  the  bold  and  ad- 
venturous son  of  the  mountains  to  balance  the  strong 
and  cautious  son  of  the  mines,  then  made  the  logical 
lawyer,  the  architectural  theologian  and  statesmanlike 
churchman,  John  Calvin,  follow.  To  contrast  the  great 
contemporaries  :  Luther  was  satisfied  to  get  rid  of  all 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  248 

that  was  contrary  to  the  Scripture  ;  Zwingle  would  keep 

nothing  which  was  not  commanded  clearly  in  the  word. 

Luther  is  determined  and.  dogmatic ;  Zwingle  is  lively 
and  liberal.    Luther  is  earnest,  intense  and  imaginative  ; 

Zwingle  is  enthusiastic,  comprehensive  and  logical.  Lu- 
ther is  first  controversial  and  then  exegetical ;  Zwingle 
is  first  exegetical  and  then  controversial.  In  debate 
Luther  stands  chief  for  fire  and  energy,  vigorous  imag- 
ination and  bluff  humor,  for  graphic  power,  contagious 
passion  and  anchor-like  tenacity ;  Zwingle  stands  chief 
for  calmness,  prudence,  discretion,  consistency,  far- 
sightedness, comprehensiveness,  for  brilliant  illustration, 
apt  classic  simile  and  keen  wit.  Luther  is  first  in  spirit- 
ual experience ;  Zwingle  in  spiritual  speculation.  Lu- 
ther is  ever  the  best  master  for  the  Christ-seeking 
sinner ;  Zwingle  for  the  keen-thoughted  believer.  Lu- 
ther stands  like  the  Wartburg  defying  all  attacks ; 
Zwingle  dashes  like  the  young  Rhone  fearlessly  against 
every  barrier.  The  Saxon  is  the  man  of  stubborn 
strength,  and  the  Swiss  of  resistless  force.  The  one, 
coming  from  his  cell,  was  too  much  of  a  churchman,  and 
the  other,  coming  from  his  classics,  too  much  of  a  cru- 
sader. Noble  pair  of  spirit-born  brothers !  Green  be 
their  memories !  Honored  be  their  names  in  the  one  fam- 
ily of  the  apostolic  faith  !  Each  was  true  to  his  light ; 
neither  neglected  the  gift  that  was  in  him ;  both  earn- 
estly contended  for  the  faith.  Let  strife  and  jealousy 
end  on  earth  as  in  heaven. 

•  To  the  Eagle  of  Helvetia,  however,  too  little  honor 
has  hitherto  been  done.  He  has  been  unduly  over- 
shadowed. Prejudice  and  misrepresentation  have  sul- 
lied his  noble  name.  The  party  of  "  passive  resistance  " 
have  maligned  him.     But  he  was   one  of  the  chiefest 


244  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

and  rarest  souls  that  God  ever  made ;  and  I  have  loved 
the  bright,  generous  man  for  years ;  to-night  I  rejoice 
to  lay  this  poor  wreath  on  his  empty  tomb.  He  was 
the  most  independent,  without  exception,  of  all  that 
royal  band ;  he  was  never  truly  inside  the  lines  of 
Rome ;  he  was  never  entangled  in  that  yoke  of  bond- 
age, transubstantiation ;  the  individuality  and  self-reli- 
ance of  the  mountaineer  and  the  combative  spirit  of  the 
fighting  Swiss  made  him  a  doubter  from  his  youth  up. 
Authority  as  such  had  neither  charms  nor  terrors  for 
him.  As  a  boy  he  asked  one  day,  "  But  what  is  the 
real  truth  ?"  That  question  was  prophetic.  Next  to 
Calvin,  that  architectural  giant  among  theologians,  he 
was  the  most  exact,  symmetrical  and  logical  thinker 
of  his  day.  Had  he  only  survived  the  fatal  field  of 
Cappel,  it  is  hard  to  say  what  had  been  his  ultimate 
place.  In  ray  judgment  he  opened  the  way  which 
Calvin  later  trod  to  happy  issues.  Zwingle's  independ- 
ence, distinctness,  generosity  and  far-sightedness  are 
seen  in  his  exact  views  of  Scripture ;  in  his  sharp  dis- 
tinction between  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  the  word ; 
in  his  clean-cut  definition  of  the  rule  of  faith  and  the 
regulative  principle  of  Church  authority ;  in  his  funda- 
mental doctrine  of  the  sovereignty  and  the  all-deter- 
mining will  of  God ;  in  his  striking  and  full  teaching  as 
to  the  conception  of  redemption ;  in  his  statements  re- 
garding the  salvation  of  infants  and  of  those  lying  out- 
side the  pale  of  the  visible  Church  ;  regarding  the  power 
and  presence  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  regarding  the  source  of 
salvation,  and  the  nature  and  value  of  the  sacraments. 
On  this  last  point,  on  which  there  rests  so  much  misun- 
derstanding, if  not  misrepresentation,  I  want  to  say  for 
myself  that  after  a  fresh  and  very  careful  review  of 


THE    HERO   OF   HELVETIC    REFORM.  245 

Zwingle's  own  statements,  after  calling  to  my  mind  the 
fact  that  many  of  his  so-called  false  views  were  uttered  in 
keen  and  hot  controversy  to  meet  and  master  falser  and 
more  dangerous  statements,  after  the  repeated  reading 
of  Cunningham's  unique  article  on  Zwingle  and  the 
sacraments,  and  particularly  after  weighing  Calvin's  own 
utterance  regarding  the  "  Consensus  Tigurinus,"  as  well 
as  the  time  and  circumstances  calling  forth  these  words, 
that  "  If  Zwingle  and  (Ecolampadius,  those  most  excel- 
lent servants  of  Christ,  were  alive  now,  they  would  not 
change  a  word  of  it,"  I  am  myself  satisfied  that 
Zwingle  held  a  fuller  and  truer  and  more  scriptural 
view  of  the  sacraments  than  any  who  opposed  him,  and 
that  substantially  it  is  now^  the  view  of  all  but  the 
'^  sacramentarians." 

Forward  and  upward  went  this  Eagle  of  Helvetia  till 
he  reached  the  famous  and  saddening  Marburg  Confer- 
ence. There  he  rises  in  more  than  royal  majesty,  true 
to  Scripture  and  yet  full  of  the  noblest  chivalry,  and  the 
Christliest  charity.  Thrilling  are  his  appeals  for  broth- 
erly kindness,  forbearance  and  mutual  consideration. 
There  he  anticipates  the  Evangelical  Alliance,  and 
stretches  out  his  hand  for  peace  and  friendship.  That 
hand,  alas,  was  not  grasped.  Fatal  mistake !  Weak- 
ness, alienations,  strife,  feuds,  factions,  falsities  followed  ; 
and  at  last  the  "  Thirty  Years'  War."  Ah,  what  a  mel- 
ancholy grandeur  in  that  hall  of  Philip  the  Magnanimous, 
who  so  long  and  nobly  labored  for  peace  and  union !  the 
unrivalled  men  confronting  each  other !  that  table  with 
the  chalk  words  on  it,  "hoc  est  meum  corpus"  !  Luther 
with  his  finger  on  the  words  !  Zwingle  saying,  "  we  be- 
lieve that  Christ's  body  and  blood  are  present  in  the 
supper  to  the  believing  soul,  but  not  in  the  bread  and 


246  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

wine"!  Luther  saying,  "we  have  done  with  you,  and 
commend  you  to  the  just  judgment  of  God"  !  Zwingle, 
with  face  ashy  pale,  lips  firm  set,  eyes  first  lifted  to 
heaven  and  then  filled  with  tears  that  fell  in  big  hot 
drops  on  the  fatal  table  !  Few  scenes  in  that  dramatic 
and  tragic  century  like  those  tears  of  that  hero-soul  so 
generous  and  loving  !  Would  God  that  scene  were  gone  ! 
and  the  burning  of  Servetus  !  But  they  are  there  to 
teach  us, — put  not  thy  faith  in  princes !  there  is  one 
good,  that  is  God. 

And  now  comes  the  last  act  in  this  grand  tragedy, 
the  life  of  the  earliest,  the  boldest,  the  most  advanced 
and  genial  of  the  great  reformers  of  this  time  ! 

The  Soldier  Martyr. 

Studying,  praying  for  fuller  light,  preaching  sermons 
of  profound  depth  and  exact  reasoning,  yet  of  tenderest 
consolation  and  a  most  winsome  attractiveness, — min- 
gling in  all  the  civic  and  political  interests  and  thicken- 
ing anxieties  of  Zurich  and  of  Switzerland,  becoming 
daily  a  greater  power  inside  the  evangelical  section  of 
the  Protestant  party,  corresponding  and  co-operating 
with  fficolampadius  and  Myconius  and  Bucer,  watching 
jealously  and  penetratively  the  plots  of  the  Romish 
party  to  divide  and  alienate  the  Protestants,  counselling 
princes  and  warning  the  free  cities  of  Germany,  the 
Netherlands  and  Switzerland, — on  with  untiring  spirit 
but  with  a  saddening  and  burdened  heart  went  this 
busy  and  brave  struggler.  Once  more  for  rest  and  re- 
freshment he  goes  to  his  native  hills.  It  is  his  last  visit; 
let  us  go  over  the  lake  and  the  hills  with  him,  and  see 
the  sights  that  lived  with  him  and  so  often  flashed  out  in 
his  sermons.     It  is  the  closing  days  of  August,  1531, 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  247 

when  we  take  our  seat  in  the  four-oared  boat  for  our 
trip  across  that  smiling  and  enchanting  lake  of  Zurich, 
"  with  its  bright  rippled  surface  and  its  shores  endlessly 
varying  with  alternating  hill  and  valley  and  height  after 
height  in  greater  variety  than  the  eye  can  take  in,  which 
dazzled  by  this  splendor  delighted  to  rest  on  the  blue 
range  of  the  loftier  mountains  in  the  far  distance,  whose 
snowy  summits  man  has  been  so  long  familiar  with  as 
to  name  readily."  We  land,  and  away  across  the  undu- 
lating ground  we  pass  with  the  keen  joyance  which  only 
strong  walkers  and  lovers  of  nature  ever  know.  For 
the  night  we  rest  in  the  shepherds'  huts.  Then  shortly 
after  midnight  we  start  for  the  summit  of  the  Sentis. 
Up  steadily  we  rise  for  four  hours  of  unbroken  climbing. 
Now  we  have  reached  the  long  back  of  the  topmost 
ridge,  and  are  on  the  snow.  With  lengthening  strides 
and  with  many  a  leap  we  reach  the  base  of  the  summit. 
Now  silently  and  step  by  step  we  conquer  the  last  stiff 
climb  ;  we  feel  the  breeze  from  the  farther  side  ;  we  see 
the  water  now  run  mv  ay  from  us;  and,  just  as  the  sun 
tips  the  peaks  around  and  far  away,  we  stand  on  the 
cairn  of  the  real  top.  Worth  the  hard  day's  walking 
and  the  half-night  climb  !  No  wonder  that  free  soul 
standing  yonder  alone,  out  on  that  point,  so  loves  it ! 
There  in  front  are  the  "  combs  of  Appenzell,"  there  the 
seven-headed  Kuhfirsten  and  the  ice-bound  brows  of 
"  Sommernkopf "  and  "  Altmann  ;"  there  on  the  north- 
east are  the  hills  of  Schwyz,  and  there  sleeps  the  Wal- 
lensee ;  out  yonder  is  spread  the  glassy  Constance ; 
away  beyond  are  the  blue  heights  of  Schwabia  and  of 
Tyrol ;  on  the  other  side  lie  Graubunden,  the  old  forest 
cantons  and  the  Glarner  Alps,  and  filling  up  the  remotest 
distance  are  the  imperial  peaks  of  the  Oberland.     Gla- 


248  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

ciers  now  gleam  in  the  new  day ;  a  score  of  charming 
valleys  waken  neath  the  kiss  of  the  sun ;  you  hear  the 
tinkle  of  falling  drops  as  the  ice  begins  to  yield,  the 
hoarse  roar  of  full  rivers  sweeping  fast  and  strong  against 
the  mocking  boulders,  the  frequent  thuds  of  the  falling 
avalanches,  the  bleat  of  the -sheep  and  goats,  the  mellow 
tones  of  the  cowbells,  the  peculiar  warble  of  the  herd- 
boys,  and  the  multiplying  echoes ;  you  are  dazzled  yet 
delighted  by  the  sunlight  and  broad  freedom,  by  the 
splendor  of  coloring,  by  the  perfect  forms  of  the  Alpine 
plants  glinting  out  on  every  side,  and  by  the  rich,  soft 
velvet  of  the  grass-patches  that  shelter  and  hide  in  the 
clefts  of  the  weathered  rocks ;  you  are  solemnized  by 
the  calmness  of  this  lofty,  lonely  world  that  seems  to 
feel  that  God  is  oftener  here  than  man  or  beast;  you 
are  strengthened  by  the  quiet  power  and  the  long-during 
patience  of  these  unwearied  mountain-guards  of  the  val- 
leys and  lowlands  !  Look,  the  strong  man  weeps  !  He 
has  hidden  in  yon  nook ;  and  he  prays ;  and  the  tears 
fall!  Hark!  "  Farwohl !  Geliebte !"  And  now,  all 
emotion  swept  away,  down  he  hastens  to  the  old  home ! 
And  out  from  that  home  he  goes  to  the  fatal  field  of 
Cappel.  At  that  time  Zurich  was  involved  in  a  life-and- 
death  struggle ;  she  was, — as  is  commonly  the  case, — 
partly  in  the  right  and  partly  in  the  wrong.  One  man 
had  seen  the  wise  and  the  right  for  Zurich  ;  but  he  had 
utterly  failed  to  bring  others  to  decisive  action  and  clear 
conclusions.  It  were  needless  to  go  into  that  cantonal 
strife  with  you.  SufBce  to  say  that  the  man  who  saw 
clearest  was  convinced  that  the  liberty  of  the  gospel  lay 
in  that  struggle.  This  I  will  say,  and  that  emphatically, 
I  have  but  little  sympathy  with  the  common,  parrot-like 
denunciation  of  Zwingle  for  his  part  in  that  struggle. 


THE    HERO    OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  249 

Never  did  I  much  like  the  views  of  civil  government 
obtaining  in  Saxony.  One  section  of  the  Church  has, 
I  know,  held  the  doctrine  of  "passive  resistance"  as  its 
regulative  principle  in  dealing  with  government  in  Ger- 
many and  England  ;  but  it  is  not  the  section  to  which 
I  am  bound  by  ancestral  ties  and  by  my  own  choice. 
The  holders  of  that  doctrine  were  often  but  feeble  folk 
in  the  long  struggle  for  the  emancipation  of  the  Church 
from  all  state  control.  The  blood  of  the  Covenanters' 
son  and  of  the  old  revolutionaries  grows  hot  in  me  as 
the  law  of  "  passive  resistance"  is  laid  down  as  the  ideal 
of  action  for  the  Christian  Church.  Peace  at  any  price  is 
poor  policy  and  worse  ftiith.  With  my  noble  old  teacher, 
William  Cunningham,  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  Scot- 
land and  of  the  Reformed  faith,  I  thoroughly  agree  in 
these  sentences  :  "  Zwingle  has  been  sometimes  charged, 
even  by  those  who  had  no  prejudice  against  his  cause 
or  his  principles,  with  interfering  too  much  in  the  polit- 
ical affairs  of  his  country,  and  connecting  religion  too 
closely  with  political  movements.  And  indeed  his  death 
at  the  battle  of  Cappel  is  sometimes  held  up  as  an  in- 
stance of  righteous  retribution,  as  an  illustration  of  the 
scriptural  principle  that  he  '  who  taketh  the  sword  shall 
perish  by  the  sword.'  Though  this  view  has  been 
countenanced  by  some  very  eminent  and  influential 
names  in  the  present  day,  we  are  by  no  means  sure 
that  it  has  any  solid  foundation  to  rest  upon.  We  do 
not  know  any  scriptural  ground  which  entitles  us  to  lay 
it  down  as  an  absolute  rule  that  the  character  of  the 
citizen  and  the  patriot  must  be  entirely  sunk  in  that  of 
the  Christian  minister, — anything  which  precludes  min- 
isters from  taking  part,  in  any  circumstances,  in  pro- 
moting the  political  well-being  of  their  country,  or  in 
17 


250  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

seeking  in  the  use  of  lawful  means  to  have  the  regula- 
tion of  national  affairs  directed  to  the  advancement  of 
the  cause  and  kingdom  of  Christ.  .  .  .  What  John  Knox 
did,  was  compelled  to  do  and  did  with  so  much  advant- 
age to  his  country,  it  was  at  least  as  warrantable  and 
necessary  for  Zwingle  to  do  in  the  small  canton  of  Zurich 
and  in  the  Helvetic  confederation.    And  while  this  may 
be  said  generally  of  his  taking  some  part  in  the  regula- 
tion of  the  public  affairs  of  his  country,  we  are  not  aware 
of  any  of  the  public  proceedings  of  Zurich  and  her  con- 
federate  cantons  which  were  clearly  objectionable   on 
grounds  of  religion,  equity  or  policy.     It  is  well  known 
that  he  disapproved  of,  and  did  all  he  could  to  prevent, 
the  steps  that  led  to  the  war  in  which  he  lost  his  life ; 
and  it  was  in  obedience  to  the  express  orders  of  the 
civil  authorities  and  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties  as  a 
pastor  that,  not  without  some  melancholy  forebodings, 
he  accompanied   his   countrymen  to  the   fatal  field  of 
Cappel.  .  .  .  We  confess  that  we  are  inclined  to  regard 
this  disapprobation  as  originating  rather  in  a  narrow 
and  sentimental  view  of  the  whole  subject  than  in  any 
enlarged  and  manly  view  of  it ;  and  to  suspect  that  it 
may  have  been  encouraged  by  an  unconscious  infusion 
of  the  erroneous  and  dangerous  principle  of  judging  of 
the  character  of  Zwingle's   conduct  by  the  event, — of 
regarding  his  violent  death  upon  the  field  of  battle  as  a 
sort  of  proof  of  his  Master's  displeasure  with  the  course 
he  pursued." 

Yes !  in  obedience  to  the  command  of  the  state  he 
went  with  a  sad  and  foreboding  heart;  he  knew  he 
should  never  return !  But  forth  he  went  the  bravest 
amid  a  few  brave  men  and  too  many  half-hearted  and 
foolish  burghers.     Two  days  pass.     The  field  of  battle 


THE    HERO   OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  251 

is  reached ;  but  here  again  Zwingle  fails  to  convince  the 
leaders  that  his  plan  was  the  path  to  safety  and  success. 
Still  he  would  not  desert  his  flag ;  and  like  the  noble 
"  Six  Hundred,"  forward  he  went,  knowing  that  some 
one  had  blundered  :  "  His  not  to  make  reply,  his  not  to 
reason  why,  his  but  to  do  and  die."  And  like  a  Chris- 
tian hero  he  did  his  duty.  In  the  very  thick  of  that 
fight  Ulrich  was,  and  as  the  brave  pastor  and  chaplain 
his  eye  was  on  the  banner ;  his  hand  upheld  the 
wounded ;  his  voice  cheered  the  fallen  and  taught  the 
dying.  As  he  bent  over  one  dying  man  and  pointed 
him  to  the  Lamb  of  God,  he  was,  alas  !  himself  smitten 
to  death.  A  huge  stone  hurled  with  crushing  force  fell 
upon  the  stooping  chaplain  and  dashed  in  the  ptout 
iron  helmet.  Zwingle  falls  unconscious.  After  a  time 
he  draws  a  deep  breath.  The  brutal  foemen,  hating  him 
chiefly  because  of  his  faith,  stab  him  in  several  places 
to  make  sure  of  his  death.  Calmly  the  hero  says, 
"  They  may  kill  the  body,  the  soul  they  cannot." 

Among  eighteen  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  re- 
forming clergy  and  chaplains  he  lay ;  around  them  were 
sixty-three  of  the  leaders ;  and  in  heaps, — dead, — where 
they  had  stood  firm  against  the  fierce  and  bigoted  men 
of  Lucerne,  that  home  of  papal  fanatics,  were  piled  five 
hundred  of  the  bravest  men  of  Zurich  and  Kusnacht. 
Though  so  sorely  smitten  and  so  seriously  wounded, 
Zwingle  was  not  dead.  He  must  witness  for  the  truth 
and  die  the  martyr's  death !  Yes  !  He  did  not  miss  his 
martyr-crown,  though  beaten  in  the  battle. 

The  fierce  fanatics  of  Lucerne  light  their  lanterns ; 
they  sally  forth  in  the  night  to  search  the  bloody  field 
for  the  living  though  wounded  Zurichers,  for  they  "  will 
compel  these  Protestant  dogs  either  to  confess  and  re- 


252  ULRICH    ZWINGLE, 

turn  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  or,"  as  they  coarsely  say, 
"  go  all  the  sooner  on  all-fours  to  the  devil."  One  set, 
and  the  wildest,  under  the  infamous  Vokinger  of  Unter- 
walden,  come  upon  "  a  tall,  strong  form  propped  against 
a  pear-tree,  wounded  severely  from  head  to  foot,  but 
every  wound  in  front."  "  Here  is  a  stout  confederate." 
And  Vokinger  lifts  the  sunken  head  and  unloosed  the 
helmet.  "  Ha  !  it  is  Zwingle.  Come — confess."  Un- 
able to  speak,  he  shakes  his  head.  Again  they  command 
him  on  pain  of  death  to  confess.  Now  firmly  and  re- 
peatedly he  shakes  his  head.  "  Die,  then !  thou  stiff- 
necked  heretic,"  says  Vokinger,  giving  him  his  death- 
blow\  Soon  the  tidings  spread  through  the  victorious 
camp  of  the  papists.  They  gather  fast  and  thick.  And 
in  the  early  morning  light  they  build  the  fire  and  they 
drive  deep  the  stake ;  they  take  the  mangled,  the  oft- 
insulted  and  basely-kicked  body  and  they  chain  it  to 
the  stake.  Then  the  drums  beat  the  muster ;  with  the 
troops  the  army  priests  come ;  the  inquisition  is  set ;  the 
dead  man  is  tried  and  condemned  as  an  "  arch-heretic," 
and  then  with  the  solemn  sanction  of  the  clergy  and 
with  prayers  'the  fire  is  lighted  and  the  corpse  is  burned 
to  ashes.  Are  they  done  now  ?  No,  verily  !  a  dead 
hog  has  been  burned  at  the  same  time ;  and  lest  the 
ashes  of  the  soldier-martyr  and  reformer  of  Zurich 
should  be  collected  and  honored,  the  two  heaps  of  black 
ashes  are  mingled  and  then  mixed  with  dirt  and  scat- 
tered to  the  winds !  That  brutality  was  the  boast  of 
bigoted  Lucerne  and  the  joy  of  Rome.  Ay,  and  it 
was  the  battle-word  in  the  Thirty  Years  War  often,  and 
the  cr^'  often  of  the  men  following  Gustavus  Adolphus  in 
many  a  terrific  charge  !  Zwingle  died,  but  Luther  lived, 
and  Bucer;  and  John  Calvin  came,  and  John  Knox  rose  in 


THE    HERO    OF    HELVETIC    REFORM.  253 

Scotland  ;  and  the  great  bands  of  Germans  and  Swiss  and 
Huguenots  and  Holland  freemen  and  Scotch  Presbyte- 
rians have  waged  the  war,  and  the  dead  is  well  avenged  ! 
In  our  happier  hours  when  the  generous  and  biblical 
theology  for  which  he  pleaded  is  so  steadily  spreading, 
in  these  calmer  and  better  days  of  nearing  churches  and 
of  the  Evangelical  Alliance,  in  these  times  of  an  aging 
sacramentarianism  and  a  decrepit  papacy,  in  this  century 
of  the  deeper  study  of  the  Scriptures  and  sharper  crit- 
icism of  the  letter  of  the  word,  we  will  not  forget  thee, 
thou  brave,  strong  and  songful  son  of  the  mountains ; 
thou  genial  and  generous  seeker  for  Christian  union ; 
thou  lover  of  exact  thought  and  a  logical  faith!  Great 
worker  in  the  reform!  more  radical  and  daring  than  Lu- 
ther, more  genial  and  kindly  than  Calvin,  more  cou- 
rageous and  unconventional  than  Cranmer — Knox  and 
thyself  may  stand  closest  together,  bold  patriots  and 
soldier-souls  of  the  reform  host,  both  of  you! 

"  When  a  deed  is  done  for  freedom,  through  the  broad  earth's  aching 

breast 
Runs  a  thrill  of  joy  prophetic,  trembling  on  from  east  to  west. 
And  the  slave,  where'er  he  cowers,  feels  the  soul  within  him  climb 
To  the  awful  verge  of  manhood,  as  the  energy  sublime 
Of  a  century  bursts  full-blossomed  on  the  thorny  stem  of  time. 

"  Through  the  walls  of  hut  and  palace  shoots  the  instantaneous  throe 
When  the  travail  of  the  ages  wrings  earth's  systems  to  and  fro  ; 
At  the  birth  of  each  new  era,  with  a  recognizing  start 
Nation  wildly  looks  at  nation,  standing  with  mute  lips  apart, 
And  glad  Truth's  yet  mightier  man-child   leaps  beneath   the   future's 
heart. 

"  Backward  look  across  the  ages  and  the  beacon-moments  see. 

That  like  peaks  of  some  sunk  continent  jut  through  oblivion's  sea; 

Not  an  ear  in  court  or  market  for  the  low  foreboding  cry 

Of  those  crises,  God's  stern  winnowers,  from   whose  feet  earth's  chaff 

must  fly  ; 
Never  shows  the  choice  momentous  till  the  judgment  hath  passed  by. 


254  ULRICH    ZWINGLE. 

"  Careless  seems  the  great  Avenger ;  history's  pages  but  record 
One  death-grapple  in  the  darkness  with  old  systems  and  the  word  ; 
Truth  forever  on  the  scaffold,  wrong  forever  on  the  throne, — 
Yet  that  scaffold  sways  the  future,  and,  behind  the  dim  unknown, 
Standeth  God  within  the  shadow  keeping  watch  above  his  own. 

"  Then  to  stand  with  Truth  is  noble  when  we  share  her  wretched  crust. 
Ere  her  cause  bring  fame  and  profit,  and  'tis  prosperous  to  be  just; 
Then  it  is  the  brave  man  chooses,  while  the  coward  stands  aside, 
Doubting  in  his  abject  spirit  till  the  Lord  is  crucified, 
And  the  multitude  make  virtue  of  the  faith  they  had  denied. 

"  Count  me  o'er  earth's  chosen  heroes, — they  were  souls  that  stood  alone 

While  the  men  they  agonized  for  hurled  the  contumelious  stone, 

Stood  serene,  and  down  the  future  saw  the  golden  beam  incline 

To  the  side  of  perfect  justice,  mastered  by  their  faith  divine, 

By  one  man's  plain  truth  to  manhood  and  to  God's  supreme  design. 

"  By  the  light  of  burning  heretics  Christ's  bleeding  feet  I  track 
Toiling  up  new  Calvaries  ever  with  the  cross  that  turns  not  back, 
And  these  mounts  of  anguish  number  how  each  generation  learned 
One  new  word  of  that  grand  creed  which  in  prophet-hearts  hath  burned 
Since  the  first  man  stood  God-conquered  with  his  face  to  heaven  up- 
turned. 

"  For  humanity  sweeps  onward  ;  where  to-day  the  martyr  stands 
On  the  morrow  crouches  Judas  with  the  silver  in  his  hands  ; 
Far  in  front  the  cross  stands  ready  and  the  crackling  fagots  burn, 
While  the  hooting  mob  of  yesterday  in  silent  awe  return 
To  glean  up  the  scattered  ashes  into  history's  golden  urn." 


JOHN  KNOX, 


"He  never  sold  the  truth  to  serve  the  hour, 
Nor  paltered  with  eternal  truth  for  power; 
Whose  life  was  work,  whose  language  rife 
With  rugged  maxims  hewn  from  life. 
He  that  ever  following  truth's  commands 
On  with  toil  of  heart  and  knees  and  hands 
Through  the  long  gorge  to  the  far  light  has  won 

His  path  upward,  and  prevailed, 

Shall  find  the  toppling  crags  of  duty,  scaled, 
Are  close  upon  the  shining  table-lands 
To  which  our  God  himself  is  moon  and  sun. 
Such  was  he ;   his  work  is  done. 
But  while  the  races  of  mankind  endure, 

Let  his  great  example  stand 

Colossal,  seen  of  every  land, 
And  keep  the  hero  firm,  the  patriot  pure ; 
Till  in  all  lands  and  through  all  human  story 
The  path  of  Duty  be  the  way  to  Glory!" 


AUTHOEITIES  CONSULTED. 


Knox's  Works,  collected  and  edited  by  D.  Laing  ;  Bannatyne's  Mem- 
oir, James  Melvill's  Autobiography,  George  Buchanan's  Life  and  Writ- 
ings ;  Foxe's  Martyrs;  Burnet's  History  of  the  Reformation;  Nie- 
nieyer's  Life  of  Knox,  T.  Brande's  Life  of  Knox  ;  Strype's  Works  ; 
Life  of  John  Welch  ;  First  Book  of  Discipline  and  Book  of  Common 
Order,  with  various  recent  books  and  articles  thereon  ;  the  Lives  of 
Cranmer,  Ridley,  Latimer  and  Calvin  ;  Lorimer's  John  Knox  in  England 
and  reviews  of  same  ;  Calvin's  Letters  ;  Milton's  Prose  Works;  Pitscottie, 
Spotswood,  Calderwood ;  Cunningham,  Cook,  Robertson,  Hume,  Lin- 
gard,  Macaulay,  Tytler  and  Wright;  Froude's  History  and  Short 
Studies;  McCrie's  Life  of  Knox,  with  the  notes  and  appendices; 
Burton  ;  James  Ptobertson  ;  Green  ;  Skene,  Innes,  Veitch,  McLauchlan, 
Ebrard,  Moffat  and  Craighead  ;  Carlyle's  Essays  and  Portraits  of  Knox  ; 
Hetherington's  Church  of  Scotland  ;  Hardwick's  History  of  the  Refor- 
mation ;  Brook's,  Neal's  and  Marsden's  histories  of  the  Puritans  ;  Hal- 
lam's  Constitutional  History  of  England,  Gardner's  History ;  A.  F. 
Mitchell's  Westminster  Assembly,  Minutes  of  Westminster  Assembly 
and  various  papers ;  Westminster  Review,  July,  1853 ;  Presbyterian 
Quarterly  Review,  September,  1856 ;  Chambers'  Journal,  vol.  viii., 
1847  ;  Edinburgh  Review,  April,  1852,  July,  1853  ;  with  many  other 
articles  in  cyclopaedias  and  magazines. 


JOHN  KNOX, 

THE  FATHER  OF  SCOTLAND  AND  THE  FOUNDER 
OF  HER  CHURCH. 


"The  Lord  is  my  light  and  my  salvation;  whom  shall  I  fear? 
THE  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my  life;  of  whom  shall  I  be 
AFRAID?" — Psalm  xxvii.  L 

Many  of  you,  I  doubt  not,  are  familiar  with  Gustave 
Dore's  "  Plague  of  Darkness  in  Egypt," — that  weird 
but  wonderful  picture  with  its  complete  contrasts  of  peril 
and  peace,  of  horror  and  hope,  of  gloom  in  the  palace  of 
the  Pharaohs  and  glory  streaming  into  the  homes  of  the 
Hebrews,  the  silence  of  despair  in  Zoar,  the  stir  of  life 
and  the  songs  of  faith  in  the  land  of  Goshen.  That 
gloomy,  startling  but  most  suggestive  drawing  may 
very  fairly  be  taken  as  a  picture  of  Scotland,  alle- 
gorical and  symbolic  indeed,  but  true  to  the  facts  of 
that  land,  in  the  opening  years  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. Just  such  darkness  was  there  over  against  light, 
just  such  curse  of  deep  night,  numbing  despair  and 
nigh-coming  death  upon  the  one  side  of  the  national 
scene,  and  upon  the  other  side  the  God-sent,  God-kept 
beams  of  faith,  truth,  hope  and  growing  life.  And  ex- 
actly as  in  the  wild  picture  of  the  daring  draughtsman 
the  darkness  is  deepest  in  the  palace  of  the  prince,  and 
the  defiling,  ghastly,  deadly  things  gather  fastest  and 
thickest  about  the   courts   of  the   temples   and   in  the 


258  JOHN    KNOX, 

chambers  of  the  priests,  so  in  the  opening  of  the  cen- 
tury of  "  the  new  light  "  was  it  in  the  Court  and  Church 
of  Scotland,     The  death-sword,  stern,  steadfast  fate  of 
the   false  Stuarts,  was  once  more  lying  red  upon  the 
royal  couch  ;  and  as  of  old  dissolute  priests,  who  defiled 
the  sanctuary  and  once  more  made  the  Lord's  offering  an 
abhorrence,  ruled  in  the  masterless  realm.     Never  was 
broader  contrast  seen  than  in  those  dark  days  between 
court  and  cottage,  the  God-forsaking  court  at  Holyrood 
and  the  God-fearing  cottage  at  Haddington;   and  two 
boys  embody  the  contrast — a  king's   son ;  a  yeoman's 
lad ;  the  boy-king  in  his  third  year,  the  freeman's  child 
in  his  eighth.  It  is  October,  1513  ;  and  round  the  young 
prince,  James  the  Fifth,  fatherless,  and  knowing  as  his 
mother   the    deceitful,  dissolute,   murderous    Margaret 
Tudor,  there  gather  the  past  tragedies  and  the  coming 
fates  of  the  luckless  line,  from  whose  doomed  house  the 
curse  and  the  sword  never  departed  more  than  from  the 
homes  of  David  and  of  Atreus.     And,  sadder  still  to 
tell,  around  that  infant  king,  whose  ill-tended  and  gloomy 
cradle  is  the  presage  of  his  own  wild  misguidance  of 
his  realm  and  of  his  gloomy  death-bed,  stands  the  vilest 
group  of  guides  and  guardians  that  ever  marred  a  life 
or  mismanaged  a  kingdom.     While  in  that  Haddington 
home  and  around  the  brave  freeholder's  stout  lad,  child 
of  prayer,  of  goodly  lineage  and  careful  nurture,  there 
gather   stimulating   and    sanctifying    memories    of  the 
sainted  Ninian,  the  Culdee  missionaries,  the  Lollards  of 
Kyle  and  others  of  "  God's  remnant ;"  and  round  him 
begins  to  shape  itself,  dim  and  distant  but  certain,  one 
of  the  grandest  dramas  of  human  history,  the  very  glory 
of  old  Scotia's  tale,  which  is  also  our  own  heritage,  joy 
and  inspiration. 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  259 

"  0  Scotland's  men  !  in  hope  and  creed, 

In  blood  and  tongue,  our  brothers ! 
We  too  are  of  the  covenant-seed  ; 
And  Knox's  fame  and  Melville's  deed 

Are  not  alone  our  mothers  ! 

"  '  Thicker  than  vrater '  in  one  rill 

Through  centuries  of  story 
Our  common  blood  has  flowed,  and  still 
We  share  with  you  its  good  and  ill, 

The  shadow  and  the  glory. 

"  Joint  heirs  and  kinsfolk,  leagues  of  wave 
Nor  length  of  years  can  part  us. 
Your  right  is  ours,  to  shrine  and  grave. 
The  common  freehold  of  the  brave. 
The  gift  of  saints  and  martyrs."  * 

In  that  stirring  drama  the  prince  shall  have  but  small 
part :  the  peasant  shall  rule  each  scene,  shall  never  be 
absent  from  the  stage.  Of  this  splendid  life-play,  with 
its  pomp  and  pageants,  its  moving  scenes  by  flood  and 
field,  the  stage  is  worthy,  is  indeed  wonder-working  and 
varied ;  ay,  and  vast,  for  it  stretches  from  Stirling  and 
St.  Andrews  in  the  north  to  London  and  Fotheringay 
in  the  south,  with  the  courts  of  Paris  and  Madrid  in  the 
distance.  Yet  far-stretching  and  broad  as  is  this  historic 
stage,  from  end  to  end  it  is  crowded,  and  that  too  with 
masterly  men  and  marvellous  women,  each  one  fit  to  fill 
a  story.  Upon  the  one  side,  in  the  forefront  are  kings 
Henry  the  defender  of  the  faith,  and  Edward  the  re- 
former of  the  faith,  queens  Jane  Grey,  Mary  Tudor 
and  Elizabeth  of  Tilbury ;  round  these  fateful  rulers 
you  see  the  stately  forms  of  the  imperial  Wolsey,  of 
far-sighted  Thomas  Cromwell,  of  ducal  Somerset  and 
Northumberland  with   their  high-vaulting  ambition,  of 

*  Slightly  altered  from  Whittier's  splendid  "  Ode  to  Englishmen." 


1^60  JOHN    KNOX, 

"  the  impetuous  Oxford,  the  graceful  Sackville,  the  all- 
accomplished  Sydney,"  of  proud  Leicester,  chivalrous 
Essex  and  dashing  Raleigh,  of  learned  Colet,  studious 
Linacre  and  conscientious  More,  with  the  bigoted  Gar- 
diner, the  brutal  Bonner  and  visionary  De  La  Pole;  and 
(confronting  these  Romish  ecclesiastics  are  the  cautious 
Cranmer,  the  stout  Latimer  and  the  sunny-souled  Rid- 
ley. Upon  the  other  side  in  advance  are  James  of 
Flodden,  James  of  the  Solway  Moss  and  James  the 
First  of  England,  Mary  of  Lorraine,  Mary  Stuart, 
Francis  and  the  Dauphin  of  France,  the  great  Charles 
the  Fifth,  cool  and  bloodthirsty  Philip  of  the  Inquisi- 
tion ;  and  around  these  rulers  are  beheld  Alva  of  the 
Dragonnades,  the  princely  and  priestly  fiends  of  the 
Bartholomew-hell,  and  the  doomed  Huguenot  chiefs ; 
while  behind  are  grouped  the  shifty  Maitland,  the  daring 
Graeme,  the  plotting  Hamilton,  the  good  Regent  Mur- 
ray, Mar  the  crafty  and  Morton  the  stern,  with  the  un- 
fortunate Darnley  and  the  brutal  Bothwell,  the  Beatouns 
and  Gordons,  Chastelard  and  Quintin  Kennedy,  Rizzio 
and  Ruthven.  And  the  background  of  this  striking 
stage  is  filled  up  with  warring  troops,  with  spies  and  as- 
sassins, with  headsmen's  blocks  and  martyrs'  stakes  and 
tragic  graves ;  while  over  all  you  read  as  on  cloudy 
scroll,  "  He  maketh  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  him." 
Upon  that  stage  are  two  central  figures,  the  masters  of 
the  situation,  the  shapers  of  great  destinies.  They  are 
two  commoners,  the  one  English,  the  other  Scotch. 
William  Cecil,  confidential  secretary  of  Elizabeth  and 
real  ruler  of  England  in  her  hour  of  deadliest  danger, 
and  John  Knox,  commanding  counsellor  to  the  lords 
of  the  congregation,  ruler  of  Scotland  in  her  years 
of  crisis  and  savior  of  the  Reformation  in  the  day  of 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  261 

threatened  defeat.  And  of  the  two,  the  greater,  the 
faithful  and  forceful  holder  of  the  key  of  the  fate-fraught 
situation,  is  the  Scotch  reformer !  This  calm,  deliber- 
ate estimate  I  make,  not  so  much  as  Scotch-blooded  and 
intensely  Presbyterian,  but  rather  as  a  lifelong  student 
of  these  events,  as  lawyer  and  judge,  after  a  fresh  and 
very  full  examination  of  one  of  our  greatest  Anglo- 
Saxon  life-crises,  upon  the  clear,  exhaustive  evidence  of 
those  who  have  given  chiefest  attention  to  this  period 
and  have  poured  unlooked-for  light,  sharp  and  startling, 
upon  this  interesting  field  filled  with  so  conflicting 
actors  and  with  so  perplexing  incidents.  This  opinion 
is,  moreover — a  fact  for  you  of  more  moment  than  my 
estimate — the  deliberate  judgment  of  a  historian,  very 
different  from  the  showy,  unsympathetic  Macaulay,  the 
skeptical  Hume,  or  the  biassed  Lingard,  a  man  who  has 
the  tireless  patience  of  a  true  seeker  of  wisdom,  a  man 
who  makes  old  cabinets  yield  up  torches  to  light  dark 
ways,  and  old  caskets  tell  their  ghastly  tales  of  death, 
a  man  who,  for  his  noble  and  final  vindication  of  our 
slandered  heroes,  Luther  and  Knox,  deserves  and  de- 
mands honor  and  affection  from  every  honest  holder  of 
the  truth  that  maketh  free,  a  man  who  cannot,  like 
Kostlin  or  McCrie,  be  twitted  with  national  and  eccle- 
siastical prejudices ;  I  mean,  of  course,  that  master- 
chronicler,  James  Anthony  Froude,  who  pronounces  this 
John  Knox,  whom  some  sneer  at  and  too  few  honor 
aright,  to  be  "  the  most  extraordinary  man  of  this  extra- 
ordinary age."  To  this  clean-handed  Scotchman,  to  this 
firm-souled  hero  in  the  faith-fight,  to  this  independ- 
ent Bible-student  and  church-founder,  to  this  living 
centre  of  a  real  world-crisis,  who  saved  the  Church  he 
had  loved  and  reared'  and  finished,  "  and  with  it  saved 


262  JOHN    KNOX, 

Scotland  and  English  freedom,"  it  is  now  my  duty,  by 
your  own  special  request,  to  turn  your  attention  as  we 
close  our  study  of  the  "  Breakers  of  the  Yoke."  Not 
unwillingly,  nor  with  fear,  do  I  myself  turn  to  watch 
afresh  this  all-unselfish  life,  but  gladly,  thankfully,  rev- 
erently, yes  lovingly.  It  is  easy  for  me,  adapting 
Kingsley's  words,  to  say  of  John  Knox — 

"  I  have  marked  this  man, 
And  that  which  has  scared  others  draws  me  towards  him  : 
He  has  the  graces  his  hour  wants  : — his  sternness 
I  envy  for  its  strength  ;  his  fiery  boldness 
I  call  the  earnestness  which  dares  not  trifle 
With  life's  huge  stake;  his  coldness  but  the  calm 
Of  one  who  long  hath  found  and  keeps  unswerving 
Clear  purpose  still  :  he  hath  the  gift  which  speaks 
The  deepest  things  most  simply." 

Never,  verily,  did  this  soul  of  earnestness  trifle 
with  his  life's  huge  stake — this  disciple  of  Wishart, 
avenger  of  Hamilton,  friend  of  Calvin,  companion  of 
Cranmer  and  Ridley,  chaplain  of  King  Edward,  con- 
fidant of  Cecil,  bulwark  of  the  Reformation,  maker 
of  Scotland,  father  of  the  Church  of  the  Covenant, 
teacher  of  Milton  and  the  Puritans,  model  to  the 
men  who  saved  Derry  and  sounded  forth  the  first 
Declaration  of  Independence  !  Ever  honored  be  thy 
name,  John  Knox,  fearless  in  life,  faithful  to  death, 
famous  forever ! 

Many  are  the  points  of  view  from  which  we  might  with 
profit  study  this  many-sided  life.  "  This  most  extraordi- 
nary man"  is  at  once  the  embodiment  and  exemplar 
of  the  Reformation ;  then  he  is  the  link  between  the 
English  and  the  Scottish  and  the  Continental  churches ; 
then  he  is  the  counsellor  and  indeed  captain  of  "  the 
Congregation  ;"  he  is  the  ruler  "  in  the  wild  crisis  "  of 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  263 

Scotland  and  England ;  he  is  the  first  and  great  "  Mod- 
erator." Hence  we  might  consider  him  from  this  point 
of  view — Scotland's  condition  before  the  Reformation  and 
independent  of  it ;  or  from  this — Scotland's  after-history 
both  in  the  British  isles  and  "  the  Greater  Britain ;"  or 
from  this — the  opinions,  efforts  and  failures  of  his  ene- 
mies, who  hated  and  feared  him  above  all  their  united 
opponents  ;  or  from  this — the  contrasts  between  him  and 
the  great  leaders  both  of  the  Reformed  and  Romish 
hosts.  A  simpler  method  I  have  chosen,  but  not  me- 
thinks  less  suggestive,  and  in  the  end,  I  hope  not  less 
satisfactory. 

I. — The  Monument  of  the  Reformation. 
In  following  from  rise  to  final  success  this  great  lib- 
erating work  of  God's  anointing  Spirit,  and  the  story  of 
its  faithful,  consecrated  instruments,  we  see  now  the 
pioneers,  now  the  masters,  and  now  the  monuments  of 
the  change.  We  see  here  the  strong  men  who  were 
writhing  under  the  yoke ;  we  see  there  the  stronger 
men  who  actually  destroyed  the  fetters ;  and  again  the 
men  not  less  strong  from  whom  the  bonds  were  loosed 
that  they  in  turn  might  lead  others  into  the  liberty  of 
the  gospel.  We  look  upon  Wycliffe,  that  great  soul, 
teacher  of  English  freedom,  father  of  home  missions,  of 
field-preachers  and  of  Lollards,  sire  of  our  English  Bible, 
to  whom  Macaulay  bears  this  well-deserved  testimony, 
''  The  first  and  perhaps  the  greatest  of  our  English  re- 
formers who  had  stirred  the  public  mind  to  its  inmost 
depths  :"  we  look  upon  faithful  Huss,  upon  eloquent 
Jerome  and  volcanic  Savonarola ;  and  we  have  the 
pioneers.  We  turn  to  the  conservative  Saxon,  the 
chivalrous   Switzer  and  the   constructive   Frenchman ; 


264  JOHN    KNOX, 

and  we  have  the  masters.  And  then  we  set  Knox  be- 
fore us,  and  in  that  splendid  Sfcotchman  we  have  the 
monument  of  the  Reformation,  himself  first  made  by  it 
all  he  was,  and  then  completing  it  and  securing  its  sway 
in  Scotland.  And  nobler  trophy  there  is  not  to  that 
great  day  of  emancipation  than  fearless  Knox  and  his 
fruitful  work. 

In  the  winter  of  the  year  1513,  all  Scotland  from  the 
blood-dyed  borders  to  the  storm-beaten  Orkneys,  but 
especially  that  part  which  lies  between  the  old  Roman 
wall  and  the  Tweed,  and  which  has  determined  the  his- 
tory and  faith  of  the  country,  was  ringing  with  these 
fatal  words,  "  Flodden  field,"  "  the  queen-mother," 
"  Henry  of  England "  and  the  "  strong-handed  Bea- 
touns."  Even  brave  men's  hearts  were  fiiiling  them. 
What,  they  asked,  will  become  of  this  hapless  country 
with  its  slain  king  and  its  infant  prince,  with  its  vile 
queen-regent  and  her  selfish  Frenchmen,  with  its  jealous 
nobles  and  wicked  priest-despot,  with  its  English  con- 
queror and  his  restless  troops  ?  The  pall  of  death  lay 
upon  the  wide  realm.  Not  a  house  that  lamented  not 
some  warrior  dead.  The  whole  land  was  in  mourning, 
and  grieved  to  its  heart  of  hearts ;  for  on  yon  dark  9th 
of  September  had  fallen  on  Flodden's  height  the  disso- 
lute and  reckless  but  cultured,  handsome  and  most 
popular  James  the  Fourth  :  round  him  in  ghastly  ram- 
parts, grim  and  defiant  in  their  bloody  mail,  twelve 
earls,  thirteen  barons,  the  head,  the  heir,  or  some  mem- 
ber of  every  noble  family  in  Scotland,  with  many  of  the 
smaller  lairds  and  freeholders.  No  wonder  that  when 
dauntless  Randolph  Murray,  all  hacked  and  hewed  from 
the  fight,  brought  back  the  rescued  banner,  and  told 
the  horrific  tale,  there  should  be 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  265 

"  Woe,  and  woe,  and  lamentation  ! 
What  a  piteous  cry  was  there  ! 
Wives,  maidens,  mothers,  children, 

Shriekino-,  sobbing;  in  despair  ; 
Through  the  streets  the  death-word  rushes 
Spreading  terror,  sweeping  on.  .  .  , 

"  But  within  the  council-chamber 
All  was  silent  as  the  grave, 
Whilst  the  tempest  of  their  sorrow 
Shook  the  bosoms  of  the  brave. 

"  Like  a  knell  of  death  and  judgment, 
Rung  from  heaven  by  angel  hand. 
Fell  the  words  of  desolation 
On  the  elders  of  the  land  ! 

"  Hoary  heads  were  bowed  and  trembling. 
Withered  hands  were  clasped  and  rung  ; 
God  liad  left  the  old  and  feeble, 
He  had  ta'en  away  the  young." 

And  amid  that  sorrow,  it  was  known  how  the  licen- 
tious Margaret  Tudor  was  infuriating  the  nobles  by  her 
intrigues  and  unblushing  sins  ;  how  the  resolute  Henry 
of  England  was  planning  and  pushing  the  marriage  of 
his  little  daughter,  Mary  Tudor,  with  the  infant  James 
the  Fifth,  plotting  selfishly  as  the  Scotch  thought,  pur- 
posing with  far-sighted  wisdom  as  the  after  years  proved, 
for  the  union  of  the  two  realms ;  and  how  through  the 
powerful  but  dissolute  and  detested  Beatouns,  France 
and  Rome  were  seeking  to  make  Scotland  a  dependency 
of  Gaul  and  a  yet  more  submissive  feudatory  of  the 
pope.  It  was  a  stirring  time  to  live  and  labor :  more 
stirring  still  and  stimulating  wherein  to  grow  and  to 
learn.  John  Knox  was  then  a  lad,  beginning  to  think. 
There  were,  moreover,  scandals,  murders  and  threats  of 
poison  in  the  palaces  of  princes  and  prelates ;  there 
were  undying  feuds  among  the  noblest  families,  which 

18 


266  JOHN    KNOX, 

involved  their  retainers ;  there  was  dissatisfaction,  re- 
volt from  feudal  service,  yes  rebellion,  rising  up  among 
the  smaller  lairds  ;  there  was  unrest  all  over  the  land. 
There  were  three  great  parties  in  the  realm  :  the  Eng- 
lish, which  was  progressive ;  the  Romish,  which  was 
reactionary,  French,  and  false  to  the  core ;  and  the 
National,  which  was  aristocratic,  conservative  and 
intensely,  though  not  wisely,  patriotic. 

As  yet,  though  there  were  many  traders  and  mer- 
chants were  multiplying,  there  was  no  true  burgher 
party  or  commoners  ;  that  force  had  yet  to  be  created — 
the  man  who  was  to  be  its  father  and  fosterer  being 
but  a  boy.  The  smaller  lairds  and  more  prosperous 
yeomen  were  attached  by  the  ties  of  blood  and  affec- 
tion, and  by  the  still  strong  bonds  of  feudal  service,  to 
the  chief  nobles.  These  parties,  English,  Romish  and 
Scotch,  were  now  busier  than  ever  plotting  and  counter- 
plotting, combining  and  dissolving  their  forces,  discuss- 
ing national  questions  and  denouncing  as  traitors  their 
opponents,  often  breaking  out  into  fierce  faction-fights, 
and  at  times  actually  marshalling  their  retainers  for 
most  stubborn  struggles.  The  minds  and  the  hearts 
of  men  and  women  were  full  of  these  burning  ques- 
tions. The  boy  Knox  felt  the  great  heart-throb  of  his 
land. 

Moreover  the  thoughts  of  the  reflective,  shrewd  Low- 
landers  were  just  then  strangely  quickened  and  sharp- 
ened ;  new  ideas  were  streaming  in  upon  them,  strange 
stories  coming  to  them  from  abroad,  partly  through  the 
influence  of  the  more  peaceful  and  prosperous  England, 
partly  through  more  frequent  and  familiar  intercourse 
with  France,  partly  through  enlarging  trade  with  Spain, 
Germany  and   Holland,  and   partly  through  the   stern 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  267 

struggles   between  the  rival  prelates  of  Glasgow  and 
St.  Andrews. 

And  amid  all  the  moral  darkness  and  wild  crimes  and 
foulest  sins  of  that  troublous  year  were  found  some 
earnest  souls  who  did  indeed  hear  "  the  knell  of  death 
and  judgment  rung  from  heaven,"  who  longed  for  God's 
light  and  purer  Mth,  and  cried  "  How  long,  0  Lord ! 
how  long  ?"  This  activity  of  mind  and  quickening  of 
conscience  were  very  strongly  marked  in  certain  districts 
of  the  Lowlands,  and  among  the  members  of  two  nearly- 
allied  classes,  the  younger  sons  of  the  country  lairds 
and  the  more  prosperous  and  pious  yeomen : — lairds 
like  Erskine  of  Dun  and  Cockburn  of  Ormiston, — peas- 
ants like  "  George  Campbell  of  Sesnok  and  Andro  Shaw 
of  Polkemmate."  John  Knox  was  a  Lowlander  and 
the  son  of  one  of  these  small  lairds. 

Near  the  Giffordgate  of  Haddington,  upon  what  is 
now  the  property  of  the  Earl  of  Wemyss,  stood  at  the 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  was  for  many 
years  preserved  under  the  title  "  Knox's  Walls,"  a 
small,  plain  but  comfortable  and  substantial  house  be- 
longing to  William  Knox,  the  younger  brother  of  the 
Laird  of  Ranfurly.  His  wife  was  the  thrifty  and  strong- 
brained  daughter  of  a  pious  and  respectable  family,  the 
Sinclairs.  Such  homes  were  found  here  and  there 
through  the  Lothians,  Ayr,  Galloway,  Dumfries  and 
Renfrew ;  and  they  were  the  hope  and  the  salvation  of 
Scotland.  In  them  were  guarded  and  fostered  the  tra- 
ditions of  Ninian  and  the  old  British  church,  the  rem- 
nants of  that  hoary  and  hallowed  Christianity  of  the 
Culdees  which  deserves  well  your  attention ;  in  them 
survived  the  words  of  Crawar  and  of  Huss,  the  lessons 
of  Wycliffe,  the  gospel  knowledge  and  the  sturdy  pro- 


268  JOHN    KNOX, 

tests  of  the  Lollards  of  Kyle ;  in  them  too  were  found 
the  real  Scotchmen  of  promise,  the  sturdy  soldiers  of 
the  Congregation,  of  Langside  and  the  Covenant ;  in 
them  lived  on  the  Culdee-British  folk,  with  the  blend- 
ing blood  of  the  Cymri,  and  Scandinavians  and  earlier 
Saxons.  And  in  them  remained  in  spite  of  spies  and 
of  stakes,  flourished  and  rose  finally  to  triumphant 
strength,  the  old  sound  Culdee  morality,  the  native 
Briton's  deep  religious  fervor,  and  the  Lollard's  leal- 
hearted  devotion  to  God's  truth.  Among  them  from 
Hamilton's  lips  was  eagerly  welcomed  the  first  message 
of  Luther's  revival  and  reformation,  and  among  them  it 
bore  speediest  and  largest  fruit.  Out  from  them  came 
the  Covenanter's  resolution  to  have  no  master  in  faith 
but  Christ;  out  from  them  strode  that  calm,  shrewd, 
iron-nerved  Christian  patriotism  which  spurned  as  un- 
manly and  unscriptural  the  lie  of  "  passive  resistance," 
which  saw  God  first  and  then  the  king,  which  mocked 
and  mastered  the  bloody  Guise  and  the  lying  Stuart, 
the  despotic  Laud  and  the  butchering  Claverhouse. 
Yes,  out  of  them  came  the  Scotch  to  Ulster,  the  Scotch 
and  the  Scotch-Irish  of  "  the  Eagle-wing,"  and  of  Penn- 
sylvania, Virginia,  the  Carolinas,  Tennessee  and  Ken- 
tucky, who  blush  not  as  they  stand  beside  the  men  of 
"the  Mayflower"  and  of  the  New  England  shore. 
Thoroughly  well  I  know  what  I  aflirm ;  for  years  I 
was  the  parish  minister  where  the  people  cherished  the 
memories  of  Peden  and  Cameron,  the  tales  of  the  Cov- 
enanters, and  the  traditions  of  Melville  and  Knox.  And 
from  hoary-headed  witnesses  in  the  Route  of  Antrim 
and  among  the  hills  of  Down  have  I  heard  of  the  lads 
who  went  out  to  stand  at  Valley  Forge  and  fight  at 
Yorktown.     You  have  more  to  thank  John  Knox  for 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  269 

than  nowadays  is  commonly  told.  Fronde,  whom  very 
few  things  have  escaped  in  his  unequalled  search  of 
records  and  study  of  this  strangely-critical  period  of 
Knox,  may  well  say,  as  he  contrasts  the  palaces  of  the 
princes,  the  fortified  castles  of  the  warring  bishops, 
with  these  really  sacred  homes  of  the  earnest,  sturdy 
people, — "  Happy  contrast  to  the  court  with  its  intrigues 
and  harlotries,  its  idle  and  petty  schemings ;  we  need 
not  wonder  at  the  regeneration  of  Scotland  when  she 
had  such  men  among  her  children  ;  when  the  war  began 
and  was  fought  in  such  a  spirit,  the  issue  was  certain.'' 
Out  of  such  a  home  came  Knox. 

In  such  Scottish  homes  there  has  been  from  time 
immemorial  one  chief  gathering-place,  the  great,  com- 
mon fireside.  What  you  see  in  the  "  Tales  of  the  Bor- 
ders," in  Burns'  "  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,"  in  Carlyle's 
picture  of  his  granitic  father  and  his  house,  was  to  be 
seen  four  hundred  years  ago  in  Scotland,  family  and 
neighbors  cosily  grouped  in  the  ingle-neuk,  beneath 
"the  muckle  lum."  There  sat  the  passing  visitors; 
there  rested  the  privileged  gossip,  the  "  Edie  Ochiltree" 
of  the  day  and  the  district;  there  was  refreshed  the 
never-unwelcome  "  traveller,"  the  honorable  and  recog- 
nized parish  beggar ;  there  questioned  and  were  ques- 
tioned the  cousins  from  the  borders ;  there  the  trader 
and  the  peddler  showed  and  sold  their  wares  and  books. 
There  too  rose  the  sound  of  the  harp  and  the  song  of 
the  minstrel,  long-lingering  proofs  of  the  old  British 
stock.  And  about  the  date  of  our  story  there  would 
swell  forth  some  of  the  lately-versified  psalms,  just 
beginning  to  be  sung  in  these  parts  of  Scotland,  as  we 
know  from  Dalyell's  "  Cursory  Remarks  ;"  there  would 
be    heard    some    of  those    "gude    and   godly  ballates 


270  JOHN    KNOX, 

chainged  oot  of  prophaine  sangs  for  avoiding  of  sinns 
and  harlotrie,"  forerunners  of  the  times  when  men 
should  hear 

"  '  Dundee's'  wild  warbling  measures  rise, 
Or  plaintive  '  Martyrs,'  worthy  of  the  name  ; 
Or  noble  'Elgin'  beat  the  heavenward  flame, 
The  sweetest  far  of  Scotia's  holy  lays." 

By  such  a  fireside,  and  at  that  momentous  hour  of 
Scotland's  history,  did  John  Knox  grow  up.  And  if 
we  would  know  our  man  and  understand  him,  we  must 
see  his  home  and  his  surroundings  while  he  is  taking 
shape,  for  it  is  largely,  but  not  wholly,  true,  as  Macau- 
lay  says  of  Luther,  "  it  is  the  age  forms  the  man  and 
not  the  man  that  forms  the  age."  In  his  home  and  in 
those  perilous  and  prophetic  hours  that  boy  with  the 
quick  eye,  large  mother-wit,  and  keen  sense  of  the  ludi- 
crous and  true  Scotch  canniness,  would  listen  to  the 
earnest  debates  of  those  shrewd,  strong,  solemn  souls, 
would  slowly  come  to  know  his  own  folk  "  so  fertile  in 
genius  and  chivalry,  so  fertile  in  madness  and  crime," 
among  whom  "the  highest  heroism  co-existed  with 
preternatural  ferocity;  where  the  vices  were  vices  of 
strength,  and  the  one  virtue  of  indomitable  courage  was 
found  alike  in  saint  and  sinner;  where  power,  energy  and 
will  are  everywhere."  There  he  would  be  thrilled  by 
the  wild  tales  from  the  border,  and  the  wilder  stories 
of  Pict  and  Gael,  of  which  that  district  was,  till  lately, 
full.  There  he  would,  not  unlikely,  at  some  time  be 
awed  by  the  reading  of  a  few  treasured  parts  of  Wyc- 
liffe's  Bible,  or  be  amused  at  some  strolling  bard  who 
would  recite  tales  from  Chaucer  or  passages  from  Piers 
Plowman  or  David  Lindsay.  There  he  would  be  moved 
to  the  inmost  depths  of  his  brave  heart,  so  sympathetic 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  271 

with  all  fighters  for  truth  and  righteousness,  by  what 
live  on  for  us  in  his  own  graphic  pages,  the  stories  told 
by  a  Lollard  Campbell  of  Kyle,  or  Reid  of  Carrick,  or 
Shaw  of  Cunningham,  who  would  paint  out  the  famous 
scene  before  James  the  Fourth  between  the  persecuting 
bishop  and  the  fearless  Adam  Reid,  and  then  go  on  to 
tell  of  martyred  Risby,  the  disciple  of  Wycliffe's  school, 
and  the  burning  of  Paul  Crawar,  the  Bohemian  mission- 
ary who  came  to  Scotland  to  preach  the  gospel  of  John 
Huss.  These  sentences  are  not  mere  fancies.  I  know 
the  habits  of  these  Scotch  homes.  I  know  the  long 
lives  of  these  people,  and  their  wonderfully-tenacious 
memories.  Night  after  night  have  I  sat  beside  an 
old  mother  in  Israel,  who  had  nearly  completed  her 
five-score  years,  who  out  of  a  richly-stored  memory 
could  recall  and  repeat  the  stories  of  her  great-grand- 
father, and  so  took  me  in  1850  back  to  the  plantation  of 
Ulster,  the  times  of  Melville  and  the  union  of  England 
and  Scotland,  while  the  tales  of  the  Covenanters  and  of 
Cromwell  were  sharp  and  vivid  to  her  as  are  to  us  the 
narratives  of  Washington  and  the  war.  Such  talkers 
would  the  boy  Knox  hear.  The  school  and  the  scholar 
were  well  matched.  He  was  learning  to  know  his  coun- 
try. That  lesson  he  mastered,  and  he  made  it  tell  to 
the  defeat  of  the  Guise,  of  Rome  and  of  France. 

At  eight  years  of  age,  John  with  the  keen,  gray-blue 
eyes,  with  the  long,  steady,  piercing  glance,  is  studying 
hard  in  the  excellent  grammar-school  of  Haddington,  to 
which  his  well-to-do  father  was  able  to  send  him.  This 
school  was  orisrinallv  monastic,  and  was  born  of  that 
public  spirit  which  showed  itself  among  the  Scotch  in 
favor  of  good  education  even  before  the  Reformation. 
There  were  also  schools  at  Aberdeen,  Perth,  Stirling, 


272  JOHN    KNOX, 

Dumbarton,  Killian  and  Montrose.  These  six  institu- 
tions, with  that  of  Haddington,  were  the  forerunners  of 
those  institutions  which  have  done  so  much  for  Scotch 
enlightenment,  and  then  for  common  schools  in  Britain 
and  our  own  country.  Knox  learned  the  value  of  the 
local  school  in  his  boyhood.  Having  completed  his  full 
course  in  Haddington,  and  having  learned  Latin  from 
some  priest  whose  name  has  gone  lost  down  the  noisy 
years,  Knox  enters  the  old  Glasgow  University,  famous 
mother  of  famous  men,  and  writes  not  the  meanest  name 
verily  on  her  long  and  glittering  roll — "  Johannes  Knox," 
1522.  When  that  youth  of  seventeen  began  his  college 
course,  teachers  were  lecturing  within  the  old  walls  who, 
if  not  the  very  ablest  of  the  new  day,  were  by  no  means 
routine  talkers.  They  were  men  who  stimulated  the  curios- 
ity of  youth,  started  fertile,  far-reaching  tlioughts,  boldly 
pointed  out  the  scandals  of  the  times  in  both  Church  and 
State,  who  told  out  clearly  the  fiery  hopes  of  the  ardent 
spirits  of  that  momentous  hour,  and  forced  their  pupils 
to  face  the  fast-nearing  changes.  John  Knox  and  his 
distinguished  friend  George  Buchanan  felt  the  spell. 
The  times  were  electric.  The  Diet  of  Worms  had  just 
passed.  Mark  the  years  of  Luther  and  of  Knox.  Knox 
is  born  the  year  that  Luther  enters  the  Augustinian 
monastery  of  Erfurt.  Knox  is  twelve  when  Luther 
nails  up  his  theses,  fifteen  when  bold  Martin  burns  at 
Wittenberg  the  papal  bull  in  December,  1520;  and 
just  as  he  begins  his  university  career  Luther  leaves  the 
Wartburg.  Think  you  that  was  all  unknown  in  Scot- 
land, and  that  John  Knox,  whom  nothing  ever  escaped, 
was  ignorant  of  the  "  beginning  of  the  universal  revo- 
lution "?  Nay,  verily!  And  if  he  had  been,  he  now 
touched  a  man  who  would  make  him  learn  it  all.     For 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  273 

me  the  watching  of  growth  is  a  joy,  the  growth  of  a 
plant  with  all  that  curious  chemistry  turning  earth-salts 
to  fibre  and  heaven's  sunshine  and  shower  to  radiant 
colors  and  fragrant  breath,  the  growth  of  a  city  with  that 
varying  play  of  honest  heartwork  and  rascally  scheming, 
the  growth  of  a  colony  to  a  nation.  But  the  growth  of 
a  soul! — of  an  epoch-making  soul,  of  a  soul  condensing 
into  itself  the  life  and  energy  of  past  centuries  and 
shaping  the  destinies  of  ages  to  come — the  growth  of  a 
Wycliffe,  of  a  Luther,  of  a  Knox — nothing  like  watching 
such  a  growth  !  The  patience,  aye  the  perfection,  of 
the  divine  working  is  learned  thereby. 

The  man  who,  in  1522,  was  linking  the  young  stu- 
dents of  Scotland  with  the  revolutionary  thought  of 
France  and  Germany  was  a  scion  of  the  best  old  English 
stock.  John  Major,  born  near  North  Berwick  in  1469, 
trained  first  in  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  then  pupil  and 
at  last  professor  in  the  splendid  University  of  Paris, 
mother  of  noble  scholars  and  nurse  of  sturdy  workers 
for  reform  in  things  civil  and  sacred,  was  the  student  of 
the  fertile  records  left  by  the  reforming  Councils  of 
Pisa,  Constance  and  Basle,  the  scholastic  disciple  of  John 
Gerson,  Peter  d'Ailly  and  Clemengis,  who,  though  de- 
voted Papists,  had  sown  seed  that  bore  fruit  for  the 
leaders  of  the  Reformation ;  and  he  was  now  the  most 
stimulating  and  suggestive  of  the  Scotch  masters.  Ac- 
cording to  McCrie's  excellent  summation  of  the  chief 
topics  of  this  too-much-disparaged  man,  Major  taught 
"  that  a  general  council  was  superior  to  the  pope,  and 
might  judge,  rebuke,  restrain  and  even  depose  him  from 
his  dignity ;  he  denied  the  temporal  supremac}^  of  the 
bishop  of  Rome,  and  his  right  to  inaugurate  or  dethrone 
princes ;  he  maintained  that  ecclesiastical  censors  and 


274  JOHN   KNOX, 

even  papal  excommunications  had  no  force  if  pronounced 
on  invalid  or  irrelevant  grounds  ;  he  held  that  tithes  were 
not  of  divine  right,  but  merely  of  human  appointment ; 
he  censured  the  avarice,  ambition  and  pomp  of  the 
court  of  Rome  and  the  Episcopal  Order.  .  .  .  On  civil 
matters  "  he  taught  that  the  authority  of  kings  and 
princes  was  originally  derived  from  the  people;  that 
the  former  are  not  superior  to  the  latter  collectively  con- 
sidered;  that  if  rulers  become  tyrannical  or  employ  their 
power  for  the  destruction  of  their  subjects,  they  rnay  he 
lawfully  controlled  hy  them^  and  proving  incorrigible  may 
he  deposed  by  the  community  as  the  superior  power; 
and  that  tyrants  may  be  judicially  proceeded  against, 
even  to  capital  punishment."  Mark  well  these  proposi- 
tions, especially  those  italicised,  they  are  far-reaching, 
fruitful ;  they  will  appear  and  reappear ;  they  will  be 
met  in  Knox's  Counterblast,  in  his  preaching,  in  his 
memorable  answer  to  Queen  Mary,  in  his  letter  to 
Elizabeth ;  they  will  be  heard  from  the  Covenanters, 
from  Milton  and  the  Puritans ;  and  they  will  be  re- 
echoed by  Patrick  Henry  and  John  Witherspoon,  and 
re-embodied  in  the  War  of  Independence.  Cherish  your 
colleges!  and  let  bold-souled,  free-spoken.  God-fearing 
men  teach  in  them!  Distant  days  of  glory  will  show 
the  splendid  outcome ! 

One  great  characteristic,  one  sharp,  distinct  feature  of 
the  Reform.'ition  leaders,  and  of  John  Knox  in  particu- 
lar, now  begins  to  show  itself  very  clearly  in  the  Glas- 
gow undergraduate :  independence  of  mind,  self-reliance, 
the  bold,  free  step  of  a  brave  man  on  his  own  path, 
resolved  to  search  into  appearances,  to  see  the  truth  and 
find  the  real.  The  historic  man  of  solid  common  sense 
and  of  stubborn   facts   is  now  standing  forth.     While 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  275 

pursuing  steadily  the  ordered  studies  of  their  course, 
both  Buchanan  and  Knox  select  their  own  favorite  pur- 
suits and  follow  them,  each  by  himself,  with  dogged 
fixedness  and  enlarging  success.  Behold  the  man  who 
will  ever  tread  his  own  calmly-selected  path  to  the  end 
where  the  goal  shall  be  reached  and  the  crown  shall  be 
won !  Like  all  his  fellow  workers  in  the  Reformation, 
John  Knox  distinguished  himself  among  his  fellows; 
and,  according  to  some  fair  authorities,  was  on  gradua- 
tion "laurelled"  by  his  fellow  students  and  designated 
as  worthy  of  an  assistant  professorship.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  he  did  teach  ;  and  speedily  in  dialectics  and  rhet- 
oric, in  sound  judgment,  in  singular  far-sightedness,  in 
fearless  boldness  to  state  his  sharp,  clean-cut  opinions  in 
telling  words  that  forced  men  to  listen  and  fired  them 
with  pleasure  or  anger,  Knox  surpassed  his  most  cele- 
brated teacher.  Before  the  canonical  age,  he  is  clothed 
with  the  priesthood ;  and  this  early  ordination  appears 
to  be  wholly  owing  to  his  great  powers  and  his  eminent 
success  as  a  teacher.  Men  have  had  their  eyes  so  fixed 
on  Knox  as  a  worker  that  they  have  lost  sight  of,  and 
hence  rather  undervalued,  the  thinker.  After  somewhat 
careful  reading  of  his  multiform  writings,  from  sermons 
and  liturgies  to  letters  and  state  papers,  I  find  that  I  meet 
a  man  with  much  of  Wycliffe's  dialectic  skill  and  power 
of  terse,  true  speech  and  of  Savonarola's  subtlety  and 
statesmanship ;  a  man  with  the  thoroughness  and  sim- 
plicity of  Huss,  with  the  resolution  and  fearlessness  of 
Luther  in  seeking  and  shedding  forth  God's  light,  though 
Georges  might  fume  and  Maries  might  weep,  with  the 
quick  repartee  and  thoroughgoing  daring  of  Zwingle  and 
the  theological  definiteness  and  churchmanship  of  Calvin. 
As  priest  and  professor  he  is  free  to  pursue  his  own 


276  JOHN    KNOX, 

studies ;  and  so  now,  silently,  resolutely,  he  is  doing. 
Late  springs  often  bring  large  harvests.  All  God's 
workers  do  not,  like  Calvin,  finish  their  "Institutes" 
before  thirty.  Moses  grew  slowly.  While  he  is  teach- 
ing philosophy  and  sharpening  for  after-days  his  keen 
wits  among  the  sophists  and  speculators,  Knox  is,  also, 
eagerly  bent  over  the  great  masters  of  all  the  reform- 
ers, those  grand  old  leaders  on  the  paths  of  philosophical 
theology  and  biblical  truth,  Augustine,  Chrysostom  and 
Jerome,  with  Peter  Lombard,  Albertus  Magnus  and 
Thomas  Aquinas  ;  he  is  also  searching — fertile  field ! — 
the  documents  and  decrees  of  Pisa  and  Constance.  All 
the  reform-making  forces  are  now  playing  upon  him.  The 
great  schoolmen  throw,  for  Knox,  sudden  and  startling 
lights  upon  transubstantiation,  the  mass,  and  the  allied 
dogma  of  a  real  priesthood ;  the  great  fathers  send  the 
searcher  straight  to  the  Bible  and  to  Paul,  their  master; 
the  great  councils  fix  the  sharp,  through-piercing  eyes 
of  this  man  of  reality,  of  honesty,  of  purity,  upon  the 
Scottish  Church  with  its  cardinals  and  prelates,  which, 
as  we  have  seen  in  our  sketch  of  Hamilton,  was  the 
vilest  thing  of  Rome's  making  in  all  the  papal  world. 
Yes !  the  Romish  Church  of  Scotland  was  in  Knox's 
day  actually  worse  than  the  Spanish  Church  in  the  quiet 
hours  of  the  foul  Isabella  !  As  with  Wyclifi'e  and  Cob- 
ham,  Huss  and  Jerome,  Savonarola  and  Colet,  Luther 
and  Zwingle,  Farel  and  Calvin,  philosophy  and  theology, 
the  Bible  speaking  forth  God's  truth  and  law  in  contrast 
with  the  lies  of  the  ages  and  the  traditions  of  the  elders, 
Christ  and  his  apostles  in  contrast  with  the  prelates  and 
popes  of  the  corrupt  Church,  made  John  Knox  revolt 
against  Rome  in  spirit  long  before  he  broke  the  papal 
yoke  and  loosed  him  from  his  degrading  bonds. 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  277 

At  that  moment  of  crisis,  when  this  strong  and  daring 
soul  is  stirred  to  its  inmost  depths,  came  the  Scottish 
Stephen  back  to  his  land  and  to  lead  forth  by  his  work 
the  Scottish  Paul.  Patrick  Hamilton,  herald  of  Christ, 
is  making  all  the  centres  of  thought  thrill.  The  colleges 
feel  his  ardent  spirit's  power.  With  him  revive  Lollard, 
Wycliffe,  Culdee ;  with  him,  fresh  from  Marburg,  Luther 
and  Lambert  stalk  sturdy  and  aggressive  into  the  very 
strongholds  of  Romanism ;  with  him  comes  the  gospel 
to  St.  Andrews,  and  the  convulsion  of  mind  is  great. 
The  reports  flew  flame-like  across  the  country,  and  the 
disputation  was  loud  and  fierce  and  universal.  Knox, 
wherever  he  may  have  been,  was  certainly  not  the  man 
to  let  aught  of  this  critical  struggle  pass  unmarked  and 
unmastered.  He  was  remarkable  for  his  broad  and 
hawk-like  sweep  of  view,  from  which  nothing  concerning 
his  country  ever  escaped  unseen.  But  calm,  self-poised, 
canny  and  shrewd,  as  even  few  Lowlanders  are,  he  was 
not  swept  away  by  any  wild  enthusiasm.  John  Knox 
was  not  the  wild  radical,  not  the  fiery  mob-master,  some 
have  painted.  Then  came  the  horrid  slow  fire  of  the 
six  hours  on  the  headland,    Knox  felt  Hamilton's  reek  ! 

Significant  fact, — Knox  begins  his  inimitable  "  Hys- 
torie"  of  the  Reformation  at  that  point :  "  Beatoun  held 
and  travailled  to  hold  the  treuth  of  God  in  thraldome 
and  bondage  till  that  it  pleased  God  of  his  great  mercy, 
in  the  year  of  God  1527,  to  raise  up  his  servand, 
Maister  Patrick  Hammyltoun,  at  whome  our  Hystorie 
doith  begyn." 

Almost  immediately  after  this  tragic  event  Knox  is 
himself  at  St.  Andrews  ;  and  is  now  teaching  doctrines 
so  bold,  revolutionary  and  anti-Romish  that  the  blood- 
shot eyes  of  the  beast-Beatouns  are  fixed  menacingly 


278  JOHN    KNOX, 

upon  him.  He  is  also  for  himself  "  drinking  deep  of  St. 
Leonard's  Well " — as  the  phrase  went  to  describe  the  re- 
ception of  the  gospel  truth.  The  Reformation  is  making 
him  day  by  day  bolder,  clearer-eyed,  more  command- 
ing over  man,  better  read  in  the  Bible,  more  dangerous 
to  the  Beatouns  and  to  the  papacy.  Therefore  he  has 
to  flee ;  and  God  hides  him,  to  train  slowly  and  sys- 
tematically for  the  doing  of  the  most  solid  and  thorough- 
going work  ever  done  in  any  country  of  the  Reformation 
— a  work  that  is  national,  a  work  whose  rich  and  far- 
reaching  influences  are  still  unspent.  Very  silent  and 
very  slow  was  this  training  of  God;  but  when  the  God- 
led  man  entered  the  gap  of  battle,  God's  work  was 
seen  to  be  thorough  :  the  prophet  spake  in  the  land. 

II. — The  Minister  of  the  Revolution. 

Some  twenty  years  have  passed  away  since  Hamilton 
died.  The  Lord,  who  bade  them  tarry  of  old,  has  given 
his  Greatheart  time  to  grow  strong  for  the  hardest 
and  most  perilous  fight  any  of  the  reformers  had  to 
wage  ;  not  the  longest  fight,  but  the  fiercest,  almost  the 
fatal  fight  of  the  faith.  During  this  time  of  real 
growth,  many  moving  scenes  have  passed  before  the 
watcher's  eyes.  The  fires  of  the  Inquisition  have  all 
across  Scotland  been  consuming  Christ's  faithful  mar- 
tyrs ;  all  over  England  and  Europe  the  fugitives  for  the 
faith  are  scattered,  that  they  may  escape  the  Beatouns 
meanwhile,  and  returning  in  some  happier  hour  of  the 
future  may  swell  the  army  of  the  congregation  and 
strengthen  the  Church  of  the  Covenant.  Yet  up  and 
down  through  the  Lowlands,  through  the  districts  of 
Stirling  and  Perth  and  the  eastern  coast,  Christ  and 
his  gospel  are  daily  winning  faithful  men  and  fearless 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  279 

women.  Aless  has  spread  the  fame  of  Patrick's  faith 
and  the  tale  of  his  creed  ere  the  cardinal-persecutor  and 
his  worse  nephew  have  him  driven  forth  to  the  conti- 
nent. Henry  Forest,  in  the  spirit  of  Hamilton,  is  hur- 
rying from  village  to  village  with  the  glad  tidings, 
knowmg  that  his  time  is  short.  Tyndale's  Bible,  Wyc- 
liffe's  reprinted  tracts,  Luther's  theses  and  Calvin's 
teaching  are  spread  by  the  travelling  traders,  and  many 
nobles  and  strong  lairds  are  now  turning  to  the  light. 

With  one  of  the  strong-handed  Douglasses  Knox  has 
found  his  protector  and  his  Wartburg.  There  teaching 
the  Douglass  and  the  Cockburn  boys,  the  hunted  man  is 
in  safety  at  Langniddire,  though  the  spies  of  Rome  are 
eagerly  searching  for  him,  and  the  well-paid  assassins  of 
the  Beatouns  are  gripping  their  ready  daggers  to  plunge 
them  home  to  the  hilt  into  his  heart  whom  the  able, 
keen-eyed,  strong-souled  cardinal  recognizes  as  the  dead- 
liest foe  of  false  France,  of  plotting  Rome  and  the 
Beatouns'  bloody  house.  During  that  shelter-time  Knox 
meets  the  reforming  priest,  Thomas  Williams,  afterwards 
chaplain  with  Rough  to  the  fickle  and  feeble  Arran,  and 
by  him  is  led  into  the  clearer  light  of  the  gospel.  But 
the  true  father  in  the  faith  of  the  Father  of  his  country 
was  George  Wishart,  the  prophet  of  Dundee,  who  came 
back  in  1544  from  his  work  in  England  and  his  resi- 
dence in  the  University  of  Cambridge.  If  we  remem- 
ber Militz  with  Huss,  Staupitz  with  Luther  and  Farel 
with  Calvin,  shall  we  not  with  interest,  delight  and 
gratitude  recall  in  connection  with  Knox  that  sweet, 
strong  soul,  that  most  lovable  and  eloquent  apostle 
and  martyr,  in  whom,  as  Hetherington  says,  we  may 
"  trace  the  features  of  a  character  of  surpassing  loveli- 
ness, bearing  a  close  resemblance  in  its  chief  lineaments 


280  JOHN    KNOX, 

to  that  of  the  beloved  apostle  John,  so  mild,  patient, 
gentle,  unresisting,  his  lips  touched  with  a  live  coal  from 
off  the  altar  and  his  heart  overflowing  with  holy  love  to 
God  and  compassionate  affection  to  mankind."  This 
saintly  man,  whom  Tytler  has  slandered  but  McCrie  and 
full  research  have  triumphantly  vindicated,  came  down 
the  Lothians  preaching  some  time  in  1545,  and,  on  reach- 
ing Haddington,  was  surprised  and  saddened  by  the 
smallness  of  the  waiting  congregation.  In  it,  though  so 
disappointingly  and  unusually  small,  was  one  man  who 
counted  thousands  untold, — John  Knox.  Under  Wis- 
hart  Knox  graduated  as  master  in  the  school  of  the 
gospel ;  with  him  John  went  henceforth  up  and  down 
the  country  hearing  those  sermons  that  filled  barns, 
crowded  cross-roads  and  bound  "  great  fields  "  of  hearers 
round  Wishart  through  the  spell  of  his  sublime,  prophet- 
like eloquence.  Then  and  there  was  it  that  Knox 
learned  the  deep  piety  of  the  Scottish  Lowlanders,  and 
was  shown  the  power  of  the  preached  word  by  which 
he  should  himself  in  later  days  convulse  Scotland ;  then 
and  thus  he  was  taught  how  to  tame  his  fiery  heart  into 
the  calm  strength  that  could  wait  as  well  as  work ;  then 
and  thus  he  was  so  won  by  the  Christly  charity  of  Wis- 
hart over  against  the  satanic  cruelty  of  Beatoun  that 
to  defend  his  friend's  life  against  the  assassin  Knox  girt 
him  with  a  huge  Douglass  sword  and  guarded  Wishart 
from  that  day  till  the  Dundee  prophet,  on  his  way  to 
the  stake,  turned  to  Knox  and,  in  the  name  of  God  and 
by  his  own  seer-like  authority,  commanded  his  guardian 
to  go  back  to  his  "  bairns  "  and  save  himself  for  his  coun- 
try and  the  cause  of  Christ.  The  saintly  confessor  was 
murdered  and  martyred  on  the  2d  of  March,  1546,  by 
the  bloody  Beatoun ;  and  on  the  28th  of  May,  after  a 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  281 

night  of  debauchery  and  sin,  that  monster  "of  unscrupu- 
lous ambition,  far-reaching  treachery,  deliberate  malice, 
gross  licentiousness  and  relentless  cruelty,"  whom  no 
prejudiced  novelist  or  Ij'ing  historian  cnn  ever  white- 
wash, David  Beatoun,  cardinal-archbishop  of  St.  An- 
drews, was  slain  in  wild  retribution  by  fierce,  vengeful, 
maddened  men,  avengers  of  outraged  homes,  of  mar- 
tyred Hamilton,  Forest  and  Wishart. 

John  Knox  went  back,  not  in  fear,  but  in  sad,  solemn 
submission  to  what  he  took  as  God's  will.  Therefore 
is  he  now  on  this  10th  of  April,  1547,  standing  forth  in 
the  days  of  blood  and  battle,  of  wild  confusion  and  wild 
crisis,  the  minister  of  the  Revolution.  We  are  once 
more  in  the  breezy  and  beautiful  St.  Andrews,  on  whose 
mournful  headland  we  gathered  to  see  that  long  and  ter- 
rible fight  in  the  slow  fire,  where  the  faithful  martyr 
won  his  crown,  and  where  gentle  Wishart  likewise  wit- 
nessed the  good  confession.  We  are  now  within  the 
strong  castle  of  St.  Andrews,  whither  Knox  has  been 
with  his  Douglass  and  Cockburn  bairns  very  reluctantly 
forced  to  betake  himself  for  refuge,  for  a  very  tempest 
of  fury  and  vengeance  is  abroad,  and  Mary  of  Lorraine 
and  the  priests  are  the  spirits  of  the  storm. 

What  a  world  was  that  on  which  Knox  looked  out 
from  the  battlements  of  St.  Andrews !  In  England, 
that  strange  mixture  of  good  and  evil,  of  generosity  and 
selfishness,  of  lust  and  honor,  of  tyranny  and  patriotism  ; 
that  elevator  of  the  commons  and  lover  of  his  English 
people ;  that  able  and  tireless  prince  who  really  made 
England  and  boldly  carried  the  struggling  state  through 
many  a  deadly  crisis  to  success  and  victory ;  that  far- 
sighted  man  who  saw  that  England  and  Scotland  must 
ere  long  be  one  nation,  and  longed  to  achieve  in  his  day 

19 


282  JOHN    KNOX, 

that  end,  but  was  foiled  by  his  own  overhaste  and  the 
Romish  Beatouns, — Henry  the  Eighth  had  passed  away. 
Edward,  the  good  and  wise  prince,  was  reigning,  with 
Seymour,  the  selfish  Somerset,  as  protector.  The  Eng- 
lish Bible  was  multiplying  by  thousands,  and  many 
copies  were  passing  through  Newcastle  and  Berwick  into 
Scotland.  The  Reformation  was  stirring  the  great  towns 
and  stealing  through  the  country.  The  party  of  prog- 
ress in  Scotland,  growing  out  of  "  the  Assured  Scots," 
was  delighted  with  the  establishment  of  Protestantism 
in  England,  with  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries  and 
the  distribution  of  their  funds.  And  the  plans  of  Thomas 
Cromwell  and  his  master  were  steadily  ripening. 

In  France,  which  through  Mary  of  Lorraine,  the 
queen-mother,  was  working  so  actively  and  ruinously 
upon  Scotch  politics,  the  two  great  parties  of  the  Guise 
and  of  the  Huguenot  were  taking  shape,  and  the  signs 
of  the  coming  death-fight  were  appearing.  The  Dauphin, 
hating  England,  the  Reformation  and  the  Protestant 
party,  was  the  leader  of  the  ruling  party.  There  was  a 
storm  brewing  here  for  both  Scotland  and  England. 

The  great  Council  of  Trent,  which  had  been  called 
together  in  December,  1545,  was  now  for  safety  holding 
its  sessions  in  Bologna ;  for  the  Smalcaldic  League  is  dis- 
solved ;  Duke  Maurice  of  Saxe  has  deserted  his  old 
allies  and  has  joined  the  emperor  Charles  the  Fifth ; 
the  elector  and  the  landgrave  of  Hesse  are  put  under 
ban ;  and  the  war  is  about  to  begin  which  shall  end  in 
the  disastrous  defeat  of  the  Protestants  at  Miihlberg, 
and  the  imprisonment  of  John  Frederick  the  elector, 
Luther  was  dead.  The  Protestants  were  divided. 
There  was  darkness  over  all  that  field,  Zwingle's  fore- 
bodings stood  out  facts.     And  in  Italy  the  pope,  Paul 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  283 

the  Third,  was  advising  the  victorious  soldier-emperor  to 
invade  England,  depose  the  heretic  Edward,  place  upon 
the  throne  Mary  the  daughter  of  Catherine,  overawe 
Scotland  and  sweep  the  accursed  Protestants  into  the 
sea.  There  were  ominous  threatenings  and  thunderings 
from  the  Vatican. 

The  outlook  upon  the  nations  directly  influencing  and 
dealing  closely  with  Scotland  was  alarming ;  the  inlook 
upon  the  hapless  land  itself  was  worse.  The  fatal  fight 
at  Solway  Moss,  only  second  in  its  destructive  defeat  to 
the  battle  of  Flodden,  had  killed  James  the  Fifth,  had 
left  Mary  Stuart  a  fatherless  infant,  had  established  in 
power  the  crafty,  resolute,  unscrupulous  papist  and 
Guise  Mary  of  Lorraine  as  the  queen-mother,  and  had 
made  the  weak,  vain  and  vacillating  Arran  regent  of 
Scotland.  There  was  now  open  and  bitter  conflict  in 
the  land.  The  strong  and  determined  party  of  Mary 
of  Lorraine,  guided  by  her  Guise  friends,  had  united 
with  the  archbishop  of  St.  Andrews.  The  Beatouns 
and  the  queen-mother,  as  the  pliant  tools  of  France  and 
Rome,  had  made  the  most  of  the  folly  and  the  cru- 
elties of  Somerset's  invading  force  to  overthrow  the 
English  party  and  the  Protestants.  Arran  had  been 
fully  cajoled  and  mastered  by  them ;  he  had  been  flat- 
tered and  frightened  alternately  till  he  basely  apostatized 
from  the  reformed  faith ;  he  had  sold  his  old  friends, 
and  had  been  at  last  driven  by  the  priests,  by  the  faction 
of  the  murdered  archbishop  and  the  furious  Mary  of 
Lorraine,  to  besiege  the  castle  of  St.  Andrews,  where 
the  leaders  of  the  Protestants,  the  party  of  progress  and 
the  friends  of  England,  had  gathered.  Into  the  castle 
had  fled  for  protection  and  self-defence  against  the  Guise 
ftiction,  against  the  persecuting  prelates  and  the  fierce 


284  JOHN    KNOX, 

Hamilton,  many  of  the  noblest  and  purest-souled  men 
in  Scotland,  who  had  neither  part  in  the  murder  of  Bea- 
toun  nor  sympathy  with  tyrannicide.  Prominent  among 
them  were  Sir  David  Lindsay,  Rothes,  Henry  Balnaves, 
the  learned  lawyer,  and  John  Rough,  formerly  chaplain 
to  Regent  Arran,  with  Hugh  Douglass  and  John  Cock- 
burn. 

The  times  were  full  of  peril.  In  the  British  isles 
and  on  the  continent  of  Europe  everything  threatened 
deadliest  danger  to  the  divided  Protestants.  Somerset's 
arrogance  and  pride  had  once  more  cloven  an  ugly  gulf 
between  the  Scotch  "men  of  the  gospel"  and  England; 
Charles  the  Fifth,  the  papists  of  Germany  and  the  pope 
were  pushing  the  brave  elector  and  the  landgrave  to  the 
wall ;  the  king  of  France,  the  Guise  princes  and  Cath- 
erine de  Medici  were  hatching  their  diabolic  plots,  whose 
outcome  should  be  rivers  of  blood  and  a  long  curse  on 
France.  In  Scotland  the  body  of  nobles  longed  for  the 
lands  of  the  Church  and  the  treasures  of  abbeys  and 
monasteries,  but  cared  nothing  for  the  truth.  And  in 
England  King  Edward  was  marked  even  at  that  hour 
for  death,  and  Mary  Tudor,  the  life  of  the  popish  plots 
and  the  hope  of  Spain  and  the  Vatican,  was  evidently 
the  coming  ruler. 

But  three  men  saw  the  whole  field  of  danger  and 
death — Thomas  Cranmer,  William  Cecil  and  John  Knox. 
Cranmer  had  convictions  and  conscience,  but  little  cour- 
age ;  Cecil  had  convictions  and  courjige,  without  much 
conscience ;  Knox  had  all  three,  and  in  fullest  degree. 
That  strong,  retiring  man,  who  was  yet  to  hold  the  key 
of  the  British  position  and  so  decide  the  fortunes  of 
European  Protestantism,  had  become  during  those  long 
years,  to  the  eye  of  flesh  seemingly  wasted  years,  in  the 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  285 

country-house  of  the  Douglass  a  truly  single-eyed  servant 
of  God ;   like  all  the  single-eyed,  he  saw  very  clearly. 
Retirement,  prayer,  meditation,  God's  word,  Wishart's 
teaching  and  God's  spirit  have  made  him  a  rarely-de- 
voted man,  relying  on  God,  truly  surrendered  to  Christ's 
cause,  singularly  ready  to  wait  God's  time  for  work. 
What  the  shepherd-years  wrought  for  Moses,  and  the 
Arabian  loneliness  for  Paul,  that  did  the  still  years  at 
Langniddrie   for  Knox.     When   God  spake,  he  never 
conferred  with  flesh  and  blood.     Here  I  have  found  the 
secret  of  his  far-sight  and  fearless  strength.     From  his 
quiet  retreat  he  had  been  with  those  rare  gray  eyes  of 
his  looking  out  steadily,  searchingly,  upon  the  whole 
fate-fraught  situation.     His  place  of  outlook  was  singu- 
larly favorable.     The  lairds  of  Langniddrie  and  of  Or- 
miston  knew  all  the  secrets  of  the  Reformed  party  at 
home,  and  were  in  constant  receipt  of  the  English  tidings. 
Of  necessity  this  twofold  knowledge  involved  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  court  plots,  the  French  intrigues,  the  move- 
ments of  the  English  papists,  the  designs  of  Charles  and 
the  pope,  and  the  fortunes  of  the  Lutherans  and  the 
Reformed  in  northern  Europe.     In  addition  to  this  in- 
formation, Knox  had   lying   open   before  him   another 
field,   the   wealth  of  which    he   daily   esteemed   more 
highly — the  religious  peasantry.      He  knew,  from  his 
walks  with  Wishart,  what  they  wished  and  what  at  the 
right  moment  they  would  dare  in  order  to  gain  their 
resolute  aim.    He  knew,  further,  only  too  well  what  the 
iron-hearted  Mary  of  Lorraine  and  the  pitiless  prelates 
were  ready  and  still  able  to  do  for  the  hindering  of  the 
gospel  and  the  harrying  of  its  confessors.     This  clear- 
sighted and  ever-reflective  man,  at  this  date  forty-two 
years  of  age,  was  now  fully  matured,  marked  by  that 


286  JOHN    KNOX, 

shrewdness,  deliberate  caution,  dauntless  heroism,  stern 
love  of  righteousness,  fiery  moral  earnestness,  keen, 
never-to-be-baffled  insight  into  character,  which  were 
ever  his  characteristic  features  and  were  destined  to 
make  him  master  in  the  great  decisive,  closing  fights 
for  Scotch  and  English  freedom.  As  Lord  Advocate 
Moncrieff  says,  "  We  can  imagine  how  in  the  deep  re- 
cesses of  that  man's  heart,  during  those  long  years  of 
quiet  and  silent  meditation,  the  light  of  truth  had  grad- 
ually worked  its  way — how  to  conviction  succeeded  in- 
dignation, and  to  indignation  the  deep  resolve  that  when 
the  time  should  come — be  it  early  or  be  it  late — he  at 
all  events  would  lift  his  voice  and  hand  to  free  his  native 
country  from  her  intolerable  oppression.  And  we  can 
afterwards  trace  how  much  of  knowledge  and  of  learn- 
ing, not  merely  of  the  schools — for  he  threw  dialectics 
away  when  he  came  upon  the  arena  in  which  he  was 
destined  to  conquer — not  learning  merely  of  the  schools, 
but  learning  of  all  kinds ;  knowledge  of  the  human  heart, 
knowledge  of  man,  knowledge  of  affairs,  as  well  as  the 
higher  and  better  knowledge,  the  result  of  deep  religious 
impressions,  he  had  stored  up  in  those  long,  silent  years. 
One  can  see  how  all  those  great  resources  were  grad- 
ually and  silently  accumulating  within  the  man,  and 
when  the  time  did  come,  with  what  force  and  vigor,  in 
defiance  of  fortune  and  of  fate,  he  wielded  them  in  the 
cause  of  his  native  land." 

But  the  time  had  not  yet  come,  and  John  Knox 
knew  it.  He  had  marked  the  course  of  events ;  he  had 
measured  the  men  of  the  hour.  He  knew  those  red- 
handed  men  would  work  no  true  deliverance ;  he  was 
sorry  to  see  better  men  allying  themselves  with  them. 
He  had  formed  his  cool,  exact  estimate  of  the  garrison 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  287 

of  St.  Andrews ;  he  knew  the  weakness  of  Arran,  the 
strength  of  the  resolute  queen-mother ;  he  understood 
Somerset  and  discounted  his  promises;  he  saw  the 
coming  French  fleet  and  forces  ;  he  had  forecast  the 
issue,  and  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  that  castle- 
shelter.  Yet  shelter  he  must  have,  for  as  the  recog- 
nized strength  of  the  "  Gospellers  "  he  is  now  hunted 
after  with  bitter  haste  and  murderous  aim  by  the  base- 
born  John  Hamilton,  successor  of  Beatoun.  To  Eng- 
land he  would  not,  like  many  of  the  Scotch  freemen, 
retire,  because  he  had  no  faith  in  the  blundering,  vain- 
glorious Somerset  and  no  sympathy  with  the  yet  half- 
popish  Church  of  the  land;  in  his  own  words — "of 
England  then  he  had  no  pleasur,  be  reasonne  that  the 
Paipes  name  being  suppressed,  his  lawes  and  corrup- 
tions remaned  in  full  vigour."  His  wish  and  plan  were 
to  betake  himself  to  the  continent,  there  visit  the  Re- 
formers and  the  great  Protestant  leaders,  and  study  in 
some  of  the  best  schools.  But  at  last  Knox  was  con- 
strained by  the  persistent  urging  of  his  patrons  and 
pupils  to  enter  the  castle.  No  sooner  had  he  decided 
than  with  wonted  energy  he  began  to  show  his  wisdom 
and  his  worth.  He  saw  at  once  "  the  weakness  and 
foolish  content"  of  the  garrison.  Instead  of  brave  men's 
wise  measuring  of  their  danger,  there  was  noisy  brag- 
ging ;  instead  of  the  cautious  and  sturdy  self-reliance 
worthy  of  the  champions  of  a  great  and  momentous 
cause,  there  was  a  lazy  leaning  on  what  Knox  knew  to 
be  but  a  broken  reed — the  Protector  of  England ;  in- 
stead of  fortifying  to  the  utmost  of  their  power  their 
vulnerable  point,  the  seaward  defences,  and  thus  of  an- 
ticipating the  most  dangerous  attack  from  the  French, 
who  were  their  strongest  foes,  the  chiefs  of  the  gar- 


288  JOHN    KNOX, 

rison  laughed  away  as  idle  fears  the  advice  of  Knox 
and  his  warning  that  the  English  fleet  would  forsake 
them  just  when  most  needed. 

Though  the  leaders  thus  showed  no  f)xith  in  the 
schoolmaster  as  a  cool-brained  captain  and  far-sighted 
statesman  (the  bitter  issue  taught  them  during  flight, 
and  in  dungeons  and  in  galleys,  to  change  their  minds 
regarding  Knox),  they  had  fullest  faith  in  him  as  an 
inspiring  preacher,  and  they  would  have  him  become 
the  chaplain  of  the  garrison  and  the  gospel-teacher  for 
the  townsfolk.  How  small  are  the  pivot-points  of  life  ! 
On  that  wish  of  these  rude  men  really  turned  the  life  of 
Knox.  Into  that  garrison  he  had  to  go  at  once  to  learn 
his  own  power  of  speech,  and  to  teach  young  Scotland 
to  trust  him.  Verily  God  leads  the  blind  by  ways  they 
know  not. 

Now  come  out  into  clearest  light  three  marked  fea- 
tures of  the  character  of  Knox,  for  which  from  his  de- 
tractors, and  the  shallow-brained,  lazy  mob  who  follow 
their  lies  instead  of  honestly  for  themselves  studying 
the  facts  of  history,  this  noblest  of  Scotchmen  and  real 
man  of  God  never  gets  credit ;  and  these  features,  the 
ever-present  marks  of  highest  Christian  greatness,  are 
modesty,  enduring  patience  and  deepest  reverence. 
Like  Savonarola  he  was  summoned  to  the  front ;  like 
the  quiet  monk  of  Erfurt  he  never  designed  to  be  a 
revolutionary.  Never  during  his  long,  checkered,  most 
romantic  career, — and  I  have  read  everything  available 
written  about  him  by  foes  and  by  friends, — have  I  found 
this  all-true  hero-soul,  so  strengthening  and  stimulating 
to  all  hearts  of  freedom  and  of  faith, — never  have  I 
found  John  Knox  thrusting  himself  as  braggart  forward 
or  running  without  a  divine    call.     In   St.   Andrews, 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  289 

within  the  slaves'  galley,  in  England,  upon  the  conti- 
nent, and  again  in  his  native  land,  he  is  called  authori- 
tatively to  the  front  and  commanded  to  hold  the  pass. 
When  called  and  convinced  as  to  duty  in  his  own  clear 
conscience,  he  never  failed.  You  need  not  fear  to  place 
him,  brave,  modest,  beside  Luther  of  Worms  or  Zwingle 
of  Zurich ;  he  is  true  as  steel ;  God's  metal  there,  not 
earth's  dross.  Patience !  patience  for  twenty  years 
under  Rome  and  the  Beatouns  !  patience  with  a  hot 
heart  like  his,  with  power  like  his,  with  self-assertive- 
ness  like  his,  with  stern  daring  like  his,  with  fierce  hates 
for  bad  men  and  worse  women  like  his,  with  withering 
scorn  of  tricksters  and  shufflers  and  liars  like  his ;  and 
these  strong  passions,  these  fierce  fires,  like  those  in 
the  strong  souls  of  the  Hebrew  prophets  in  the  days  of 
Jeroboam  and  of  Ahab,  were  his.  I  came  here  neither  as 
apologist  nor  as  advocate.  I  know  nothing  to  apologize 
for.  Knox  needs  before  an  honest  jury  no  advocate.  I 
am  here  to  state,  too  feebly  by  far,  the  grand  facts  of 
a  grand  life.  The  facts  are  fame,  and  without  a  stain ! 
Patience !  the  patience  of  Knox  is  sublime.  Remark- 
able, too,  was  his  steadfast  waiting  on  Providence  ;  he 
never  fretted,  he  trusted,  and  God  led  him.  God's  hour 
was  ever  for  him  the  fullness  of  time. 

But  now  neither  modesty,  nor  patience,  nor  reverence, 
could  longer  shelter  him  from  the  perilous  prominence 
of  leader.  While  many  in  the  beleaguered  garrison  and 
town  recognized  the  power  of  the  quiet  tutor,  there  was 
one  man,  destined  himself  to  noble  work  in  England  and 
Europe  and  the  martyr's  crown  at  Smithfield,  who  felt 
that  God  and  God's  cause  in  Scotland  demanded  the 
immediate  forth-stepping  of  their  mightiest  champion  to 
meet  the  blaspheming  Goliath   of  Rome  in  the  deadly 


290  JOHN    KNOX, 

gap  of  battle  ;  and  that  one  man  knew  himself  all  unfit, 
and  John  Knox  to  be  the  David,  With  a  noble  modesty 
and  an  affection  like  Jonathan's,  John  Rough  resolved  to 
take  second  place  at  St.  Andrews  and  in  the  fight.  He, 
shrewd  and  canny,  called  the  leaders  quietly  together, 
forcibly  stated  his  convictions,  laid  before  them  to  their 
great  amusement  but  joint  approbation  a  plan  by  which 
John  Knox  should  be  constrained  to  abandon  his  reso- 
lute retirement  and  be  compelled  to  accept  the  post  for 
which  all  hailed  him  as  supremely  fitted — the  post  of 
leader  of  the  Reformed  party  in  Scotland. 

Word  is  quietly  passed  round  from  man  to  man  that 
next  Sabbath  shall  be  marked  by  a  memorable  scene. 
The  church  is  packed.  The  scene  is  memorable  for 
all  time  !  John  Rough  is  in  the  pulpit ;  his  sermon  is 
upon  the  election  of  ministers,  and  he  passes  on  to  speak 
solemnly  and  strongly  of  the  power  of  Christ's  congre- 
gation "  over  any  man  in  whom  they  supposed  and  es- 
pied the  gifts  of  God  to  be,  and  how  dangerous  it  was 
to  refuse  and  not  to  hear  their  voice."  Then  he  pauses  ; 
the  church  is  silent  as  the  grave,  on  every  face  save 
one  is  expectation,  the  very  air  trembles  with  spirit- 
ual influences  ;  the  preacher  turns  to  one  seat  where 
calm,  all  unsuspecting,  sits  the  chosen  man ;  out  bursts 
this  summons  to  John  Knox — "  Brother !  in  the  name 
of  God  and  of  his  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  I  charge  you  that 
you  refuse  not  this  holy  vocation,  even  as  you  look  to 
avoid  God's  heavy  displeasure."  Startled  from  his  seat, 
his  face  ashen  gray,  his  strong  heart  heaving,  his  great 
piercing  eyes  full  of  piteous  sorrow,  John  Knox  stands 
in  amaze.  Now  the  preacher  summons  the  congrega- 
tion forth — "  Was  not  this  your  charge  to  me  ?  And 
do  ye  not  approve  this  call  ?"     Then  with  a  great,  deep- 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  291 

throated,  one-hearted  cry  comes  the  answer  till  the 
church  rings — "  It  was ;  and  we  approve  it !"  One 
eye-sweep  of  anguish  over  the  congregation,  the  strong 
man  bursts  into  floods  of  tears  and  rushes  from  the 
church.  Oh,  terrible  tears,  when  such  men  weep ! 
We  shall  have  other  tears  !  tears  of  foiled  craft !  tears 
of  fell  cunning !  tears  over  which  hollow  sentiment  has 
for  years  poured  forth  its  maudlin  pity  !  Here  are  tears 
God  will  place  in  his  bottle !  the  tears  of  a  God-fearing- 
hero,  the  tears  of  conscience,  conscience  facing  God, 
God's  call  and  God's  work  with  its  tremendous  respon- 
sibilities and  never-ending  issues.  Those  tears  are 
pledges  of  a  commensurate  triumph.  Days  of  agony 
followed  for  Knox.  At  last  he  surrendered.  At  once 
he  took  up  his  work.  Strife  from  the  outset.  "  That 
rotten  papist,"  Dean  John  Annan,  had  worried  and  had 
worsted  simple-minded,  straightforward  Rough.  John 
Knox  challenged  and  conquered  him.  That  first  strug- 
gle led  to  a  second  and  sterner  strife  in  the  parish 
church,  where  the  stout  John  Knox,  the  old  master 
of  debate,  faced  "  a  convention," — to  use  his  own  hu- 
morous terms,  for  this  misunderstood  man  is  full  of 
humor, — "  of  Gray  Friars  and  Black  Fiends,"  and  so 
routed  them  that  the  people  of  the  town  accepted  the 
Reformed  doctrines.  Sermons  followed  that  led  many 
souls  to  Christ;  and  the  Supper  of  the  Lord  followed 
as  seal  of  their  faith,  and  to  strengthen  Knox  and  many 
others  for  their  coming  slavery. 

Through  the  unutterable  folly  and  selfish  baseness  of 
English  statesmen,  countless  instances  of  which  meet 
and  infuriate  you  as  you  read  the  tale  of  this  life-and- 
death  struggle  of  British  Protestantism,  and  the  thence- 
growing  Presbyterianism  of  Scotland  and  Puritanism  of 


292  JOHN    KNOX, 

England ;  through  the  dogged  resolution  of  the  prelates 
and  the  queen-mother,  and  above  all  through  the  French 
troops  and  the  deadly  plague,  the  garrison  was  compelled 
to  surrender.  But  upon  clearest  conditions  of  personal 
safety  and  liberty  the  defenders  yielded.  These  terms 
were  at  once  basely  violated,  through  the  falsity  of 
France  and  the  rascality  of  Rome.  The  end  was 
slavery ;  for  some  in  the  French  dungeons  of  Brest, 
St.  Michel  and  Cherbourg,  and  for  others  in  the 
more  horrible  holds  of  the  felon's  galley.  Knox  went 
to  the  galleys. 

But  the  man  who  in  St.  Andrews  "  abashed  byrst 
forth  in  moist  abundand  tearis  and  withdrew  himself  to 
his  chalmer  "  is  now  the  unquailing  confessor.  No  more 
tears  !  Let  the  weeping  preacher  of  the  garrison  stand 
over  against  the  warring  protester  in  the  galley  !  Fet- 
tered as  a  felon,  with  the  knout-like  lash,  the  branding- 
iron,  the  heavy  axe  full  before  his  view,  John  Knox  has, 
one  day,  violently  thrust  to  his  face  "  a  painted  board, 
what  they  called  Our  Lady,"  that  he  may  kiss  it.  Four 
officers  stand  by :  the  image  is  forced  into  John's  hand. 
He  looks  them  in  the  face  "  advisitlie,  takes  the  idole, 
casts  it  in  the  rivere,  and  says,  *  Let  Our  Lady  now  save 
hirself,  she  is  light  aneuch,  lett  hir  learne  to  swyme.' " 
Cool  daring  that !  cooler  than  the  sailor's  who  steps 
forward  to  the  bomb  and  flings  it  overboard  ere  it  can 
burst.  Knox  adds,  with  his  dry  wit,  "After  that  was 
no  Scottish  man  urged  with  that  idolatrie."  Ah,  Knox  ! 
God-given  Greatheart  of  our  Church  !  how  many  such 
fights  didst  thou  wage  that  we  might  not  be  "  urged 
with  that  idolatrie  "  ! 

But  the  galley's  chains,  hard  toil,  foul  air,  scant  food 
and  untold  cruelties  well-nigh  wrought  what  the  Boa- 


THK    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  293 

touns'  daggers  failed  to  compass — his  death.  Knox, 
who  stepped  out  of  the  castle  a  healthy  and  vigorous 
freeman,  lies  now  a  wasted  slave,  at  the  very  point  of 
death  with  galley-fever.  His  friends,  Henry  Balnaves 
and  James  Balfour,  almost  broken-hearted,  carry  him  on 
deck,  to  die,  if  not  on  his  native  land,  at  least  with  it  in 
sight.  It  is  in  the  gray  dawn  of  a  summer  morn  ;  they 
gently  raise  the  dying  man,  turn  his  face  to  the  land, — 
to  which  for  its  continued  oppression  the  galley-slaves 
had  just  brought  the  French  ships  and  troops  to 
fight  England  for  the  pope  and  the  Guise ;  they  direct 
the  dimming  eyes  to  the  steeples  of  the  town,  and  ask 
him  if  he  knows  the  land  and  the  town.  The  wasted 
form  thrills  and  stiffens ;  the  livid  ftice  flushes ;  the 
eyes  fix  themselves  and  steadily  brighten ;  God  has 
touched  him,  and  John  Knox  says,  "  I  know  it  well,  for 
I  see  the  steeple  of  that  place  where  God  first  opened 
my  mouth  in  public  to  his  glory,  and  I  am  fully  per- 
suaded, how  weak  that  ever  I  now  appear,  I  shall  not 
depart  this  life  till  my  tongue  shall  glorify  his  holy 
name  in  the  same  place."  Balnaves  and  Balfour  are 
still  in  wonder.     Knox  lived. 

The  same  faith  that  upheld  Savonarola  when  lying 
faint  on  the  road  between  Brescia  and  Florence,  the 
same  deep  confidence  in  God  that  nerved  the  Saxon 
witness  to  say,  "  Here  I  stand,  I  can  do  no  otherwise  : 
God  help  me  :  Amen !"  buoyed  up  the  heavy-weighted 
Scotchman  in  that  death-stream.  Through  life  he  was 
marked  by  that  unfaltering  confidence.  Under  Paul's 
great  word,  as  he  calls  the  hero-roll — "  By  faith" — you 
may  indeed  write  all  of  Knox's  deeds ;  you  may  read 
with  but  one  changed  word  that  great  Moses-verse,  and 
vou  will  therein  condense  the  Scotchman's  life — "  By 


294  JOHN    KNOX, 

faith  he  forsook  Rome,  not  fearing  the  wrath  of  the 
king, /or  he  endured  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible." 

Nor  was  he  put  to  shame  before  Balnaves  and  Balfour 
or  the  foes ;  for  in  February,  1549,  Knox  was  released 
by  the  influence  of  the  English  ambassador  in  Paris, 
and  at  the  personal  solicitation  of  Edward  the  Sixth. 
Otit  of  his  nineteen  months'  captivity  in  the  French 
galley,  Knox  steps  forth  the  very  life  and  hope  of  the 
Protestant  party  in  Scotland.  From  the  galleys  this 
resolute  and  active  man  had  sent  many  a  cheering  mes- 
sage to  his  land ;  he  had,  besides,  composed  and  dis- 
patched several  doctrinal  tracts,  and  had  written  a 
preface  and  commendation  for  Balnaves'  treatise  on  Jus- 
tification. His  views  of  truth  were  all  by  this  time 
distinctly  shaped  and  finally  fixed ;  his  opinions  on 
church  order  were  fully  formed ;  he  was  Augustinian 
and  Pauline  and  Presbyterian  before  even  he  had  reached 
Geneva  or  conferred  with  Calvin.  And  he  was  well 
known  in  England,  esteemed  for  his  abilities  and  virtues 
by  the  king,  and  highly  valued  by  Cranmer  before  he 
had  ever  met  prince  or  bishop. 

III. — The   Missionary  in  England. 

From  1549  to  1554,  John  Knox,  the  sturdy  Presby- 
terian, who  with  all  his  firm  principles  and  fixed  creed 
was  full  of  kindly  charities  and  marked  by  broadest 
toleration  regarding  things  indifferent,  was  the  trusted 
missionary  of  the  king,  a  recognized  minister  of  the 
English  Church  without  the  once-dreamed-of  insult  of 
reordination,  and  the  confidential  friend  of  Cranmer, 
Ridley  and  Latimer.  In  all  truth  we  may  write  after 
Edward  Tudor,  as  has  been  written  after  William  of 
Orange,  "  of  glorious,  pious  and  immortal  memory."    If 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  295 

ever  there  was  a  king  whom  his  land  should  not  cease 
to  mourn,  because  of  the  rare  virtues  lost  in  his  too- 
early  death,  and  on  account  of  the  miseries  and  narrowly- 
escaped  ruin  that  followed,  if  ever  there  was  a  prince 
whom  our  reformed  churches  might  canonize  and  hail  as 
saintly,  and  whom  Protestant  historians  might  fearlessly 
eulogize  for  his  rich,  rare  promise,  it  is  Edward  the 
Sixth. 

"  Come  hither,  Eno;land"s  hope.     If  secret  powers 
Sucrgest  but  truth  to  my  divining  thoughts, 
This  pretty  lad  will  prove  our  country's  bliss. 
His  looks  are  full  of  peaceful  majesty  ; 
His  head  by  nature  framed  to  wear  a  crown. 
His  hand  to  wield  a  sceptre  ;  and  himself 
Likely,  in  turn,  to  bless  a  regal  throne." 

Thus  had  many  wise,  truth-loving  souls  like  Latimer 
said  of  Henry's  only  living  boy.  They  thanked  God 
for  his  coronation.  Gifted  richly  by  nature,  and  care- 
fully as  well  as  variously  trained  and  taught,  Edward 
stands  forth  wealthy  with  the  best  qualities  of  that  force- 
ful Tudor  line,  with  the  sagacity  and  firm  will  of  Henry 
without  his  cold-blooded  selfishness  and  his  brutal  lusts, 
with  the  resolute  convictions  and  determined  devotion 
of  Mary,  his  sister,  but  with  independence  of  thought 
and  freedom  of  faith,  with  a  true  English  bravery, 
patriotism,  love  of  his  people  and  hatred  of  Romish  ag- 
gressions like  Elizabeth,  without  her  intolerable  vanities, 
her  disgusting  coquetries,  her  paltry  meanness,  her  loath- 
some falsity  and  her  irritating  whims.  Alas  !  that  with 
this  moral  and  spiritual  strength  and  wealth,  he  has  the 
blighted  body  of  all  the  Tudor  boys ;  for  as  you  look 
upon  him  early  girding  himself  to  his  perilous  work, 
you  see  that  his,  indeed,  are 


296  JOHN    KNOX, 

"  The  king-becominf;;  o;races, 
E'en  justice,  verity,  temperance,  stableness, 
Bounty,  perseverance,  mercy,  lowliness. 
Devotion,  patience,  coura<;e,  fortitude." 

That  sight  of  the  magnanimous  prince  and  of  the  Pres- 
byterian minister  working  together  in  one  Church  for 
the  fuller  triumph  of  the  gospel  and  the  completer  puri- 
fication of  the  Church  touches  me  deeply.  The  possi- 
bilities there  unfolded  are  indeed  vast ;  their  realization 
would  have  been  a  thrilling  triumph  of  truth  and  charity. 
Had  Edward  only  lived,  and  had  the  reforms  been  car- 
ried out  which  Cecil  and  Cranmer,  Knox  and  Latimer 
discussed  and  planned  in  old  Lambeth  palace,  which 
Calvin  had  approved  and  the  king  had  set  his  heart  on 
confirming,  there  might  have  been  one  grand  British 
Church  from  Land's  End  to  Dunnet  Head — one  in  its 
creed,  various  in  forms,  free  as  to  organization,  and  there 
might  never  have  been  known  the  dreadful  days  of  dis- 
sension and  distress,  of  blight  and  blood,  that  agitated 
and  anguished  the  land  and  its  best  hearts  from  Mary 
of  the  Smithfield  stakes  to  William  of  the  Boyne ! 

This  truly  Protestant  prince,  Edward,  was  the  sincere 
lover  of  good  men ;  and  John  Knox  was  specially 
trusted  and  honored  of  him.  That  affectionate  and  leal- 
hearted  Scotchman  repaid  this  royal  favor  with  large  in- 
terest by  his  noble  homage,  his  faithful  devotion  in  very 
difficult  fields  to  the  interests  of  the  king,  by  hard  and 
successful  work  where  the  prince  and  Protestantism 
both  sorely  needed  a  hero  and  a  statesman.  Prince  and 
preacher  were  worth}^  of  each  other. 

Though  his  strong  frame  was  now  forever  shattered, 
his  sound  health  fled  and  his  diseases  were  many  and 
painful,  Knox,  with  intrepid  spirit  and  full  consecration, 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  297 

accepted  the  king's  appointment.  If  Mary  of  Lorraine 
and  the  persecuting  prelates  made  it  impossible  for  him 
yet  to  return  to  Scotland  and  there  resume  his  reform- 
atory work,  he  would  with  glad  cordiality  accept  the 
king's  urgently-pressed  offer  of  an  English  pastorate,  or 
rather  mission  to  the  godless  garrison  and  stubborn  pa- 
pists in  the  north.  Thence  he  could  easily  communi- 
cate with  the  faithful  yeomanry  of  the  southern  Scotch 
shires,  steadily  cheer  them  in  their  trials  and  watch  the 
progress  of  events.  Never  was  there  more  eager  worker, 
more  zeal-eaten  reformer,  than  Knox  in  the  days  of  his 
English  exile. 

With  that  remarkable  shrewdness  and  far-sighted 
policy  which  the  boy-king  very  early  showed,  John  Knox 
was  sent  to  the  field  of  special  danger  and  battle,  the 
field  needing  coolness  and  nerve,  the  soldier's  dash  and 
the  statesman's  sagacity,  the  fullest  knowledge  of  the 
local  dispositions  and  the  tact  to  deal  with  them,  the 
sleepless  watchfulness  of  a  sentinel  and  the  zeal  of  a 
true-souled  missionary.  That  field  was  the  north  of 
England.  This  district  was  a  troublous  part  always,  a 
very  land  of  peril  to  the  throne,  the  home  of  strong  and 
factious  leaders  and  their  reckless  followers  from  the 
days  of  Harold  down  to  those  of  James  the  First.  At 
the  date  of  our  story  the  North  was  full  of  powerful 
Catholics  and  plotting  priests,  who  outwardly  conformed 
to  the  new  order  while  in  heart  they  were  papists  and 
were  watching  eagerly  for  the  king's  death  or  an  oppor- 
tunity to  excite  a  revolt  in  Romish  Mary's  favor.  The 
chief  prelate  was  Cuthbert  Tonstall;  and  he,  though  con- 
forming, was  in  real  sympathy  with  the  bigot  Gardiner, 
with  De  La  Pole  and  the  pope  rather  than  with  Cran- 
mer,  Latimer  and  Edward.  His  see  of  Durham  and 
20 


298  JOHN    KNOX, 

the  adjoining  districts  were  a  very  hotbed  of  sedition. 
Moreover  it  was  the  easy  and  the  open  pathway  into  Eng- 
land's heart  from  Scotland,  where  the  Guise  party  under 
the  queen-mother,  and  the  Romish  prelates  under  the  per- 
secuting archbishop,  were  concocting  with  France  and  the 
Vatican  that  fell  conspiracy  against  England  and  the  re- 
formed faith  in  Britain  which  ofttimes,  through  Somer- 
set's blundering  and  Elizabeth's  caprices  and  selfishness, 
almost  succeeded,  and  which  ended  only  with  the  execu- 
tion of  Mary  Stuart  and  the  destruction  of  the  Armada. 

On  this  high  place  of  the  perilous  field  is  set  the  man 
who  is  there  to  watch  the  plotters  and  study  their  plans 
that  he  should  outwit  and  defeat  them  ;  and  there  with 
great  courage  takes  up  his  task  that  good  soldier  so  ready 
to  endure  hardness ;  and  there  without  delay  begins  his 
labor  that  sickly  preacher  with  the  clear,  all-reading 
eyes,  with  the  cool  brain  quick  to  plan,  shrewd  and  fer- 
tile in  resource,  with  the  unfailing  insight  which  no 
masked  face  could  deceive  nor  craftiest  snake  in  the 
grass  escape,  with  the  daring  that  no  foe  could  shake, 
and  with  the  ringing,  rousing  speech  which  like  pealing 
trumpets  stirred  men's  blood. 

Minister  of  Berwick-on-Tweed,  in  the  English  parish- 
church,  now  stands  the  reforming  missionary.  It  was  a 
battle-town,  a  key-fortress  of  the  borders.  Here  was  a 
strong  garrison.  The  soldiers  were  of  all  the  English 
troops  the  hardiest  dare-devils,  many  of  them  wild, 
licentious,  godless.  They  had  met  their  match,  manlier 
than  their  manliest,  more  fearless  than  their  boldest. 
Knox  knew  troops.  He  had  begun  his  work  as  the  sol- 
dier's chaplain,  and  had  since  seen  the  felon's  life  in  the 
French  galleys.  With  rare  humor  and  quick  wit,  full 
of  Christian  boldness  and  charity,  Knox  knew  how  to 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  299 

deal  with  such  men.  The  camp  bowed  to  his  power ; 
and  that  garrison  in  later  days  furnished  Elizabeth  some 
of  her  bravest  and  trustiest  troops.  Then  the  town  felt 
his  influence  ;  and  the  church  was  crowded  to  hear  a  full 
gospel  and  very  bold  reforming,  Protestant  truth.  Out 
passed  the  untiring  missionary  through  the  wide  district 
over  which  the  royal  commission  gave  him  unchallenge- 
able right  to  itinerate.  At  the  crosses  of  the  towns, 
upon  the  highways,  everywhere  he  preached  his  stirring 
sermons.  His  zeal  consumed  him  and  fired  the  people. 
His  words  were  like  battle-axes.  No  more  than  Wycliffe 
did  he  use  mincing  words.  His  Protestantism  was  no 
shadowy,  hollow  thing,  but  solid,  pure  and  clean-cut. 
Cuthbert  Tonstall,  furious  at  this  invasion,  has  him  in- 
dicted to  appear  for  heresy,  schism  and  treason,  and  an- 
swer for  himself  before  the  Council  of  the  North.  Like 
a  warhorse  snorting  in  the  battle-breeze,  Knox  wel- 
comes the  fray.  He  has  been  longing  to  unmask  that 
same  hypocritical  and  lying  Cuthbert,  The  challenge 
is  accepted ;  the  glove  of  the  English  mass-monger  is  in 
the  Scotchman's  bonnet.  The  lists  are  stretched  at 
Newcastle-on-Tyne.  The  day  of  the  encounter  comes. 
Knox  touches  Tonstall's  shield  with  the  bare  point  of 
his  lance.  There  will  be  no  quarter.  Neither  was  there. 
Before  a  vast  crowd  of  witnesses,  John  Knox,  with  all 
the  skill,  subtility  and  swiftness  given  by  his  old  train- 
ing, with  bold,  heavy  strokes  and  rapid  turns,  proved 
himself  a  deadly  antagonist  to  Tonstall  and  his  fellow 
prelates  and  priests.  The  idolatry  of  images,  the  blas- 
phemy of  the  mass,  the  falsehood  of  transubstantia- 
tion,  Peter's  primacy  and  priestly  absolution, — the  hy- 
pocrisy and  the  deceit  of  Tonstall  himself,  and  the  dis- 
section and  criticism  of  the  bishop's  last  sermon, — the 


300  JOHN    KNOX, 

exposition  and  defence  of  the  full  reformed  faith, — were 
that  day  stated  so  skillfully  and  convincingly,  with 
irony  so  keen,  with  sarcasm  so  cutting,  w^ith  volleys  of 
such  resistless  wit,  that  the  people  laughed  for  months, 
yet  turned  to  the  Saviour  with  a  faith  that  never  faltered 
during  Mary's  bloodiest  days.  Knox  was  master  of  the 
North,  and  soon  was  transferred  to  that  city  of  his  triumph 
as  its  pastor.  While  in  Newcastle  he  did  most  efficient 
service  down  the  east  of  England  and  along  the  Scotch 
borders.  But  the  king  wants  his  help  in  and  around 
London ;  and  now  you  find  our  resolute  Presbyterian 
one  of  the  six  royal  chaplains.  These  chaplains  with 
Cranmer,  Ridley  and  Latimer  formed  the  Revision  Com- 
mittee of  Edward.  The  king  was  quite  dissatisfied  with 
the  degrees  of  reform  permitted  by  his  father ;  he  would, 
have  it  carried  very  much  farther ;  he  desired  the 
thorough  purgation  of  the  prayer-book,  which  had  been 
largely  the  translation  of  the  old  Missal  and  the  Bre- 
viary ;  he  longed  to  bring  the  Church  of  England  into 
very  close  conformity  with  the  reformed  churches  of  the 
continent,  and  particularly  of  Geneva.  His  trusted 
agent  was  Cranmer,  and  Cranmer  was,  through  Knox,  in 
correspondence  with  Calvin. 

The  part  John  Knox  had  in  the  revision  of  King 
Edward's  time  was  very  considerable.  McCrie,  Mon- 
crieff,  Lorimer,  Froude,  an  interesting  article  in  the 
Edinburgh  Review,  prove  this  most  suggestive  fact.  His 
friends  Cranmer,  Latimer  and  Ridley,  and  his  foes 
Weston  and  Cox,  for  different  reasons  refer  to  the  large 
share  Knox  had  in  that  revision  of  the  Liturgy,  and 
also  in  the  changes  made  in  the  Articles.  And  to  this 
hour  John  Knox's  spirit  presides  over  every  communion 
in  the  evangelical  churches  of  the  Episcopal  family ; 


*  THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  301 

for  we  know  from  himself,  and  even  more  conclusively 
on  such  a  point  from  his  fiercely-hating  enemy,  Dr. 
Weston,  who  in  a  discussion  at  Oxford,  in  1554,  ac- 
cused Latimer  of  aiding  and  abetting  John  Knox  in  the 
alteration,  "  that  the  renegade  Scot  did  take  away  the 
adoration  of  Christ  in  the  sacrament.  So  much  pre- 
vailed the  authority  of  that  one  man  at  that  time." 
Sacramentarians  have  always  hated  the  very  name  of 
Knox  for  what  he  did  in  England  and  more  effectually 
established  in  Scotland.  It  had  been  well  that  Knox's 
authority  had  prevailed  more  and  lasted  longer.  Under 
Edward  there  was  no  more  influential  man  in  the  king's 
council.  And  in  carefully  reading  over  Cranmer's  re- 
vision I  can  often  trace  Knox's  hand. 

Any  position  in  the  English  Church  might  have  been 
his  possession.  He  is  presented  to  the  commanding 
post  of  the  rectory  of  All-Hallows.  The  king  and 
Northumberland,  who  is  now  protector,  offer  him  the 
princely  see  of  Rochester.  Both  the  living  and  the 
bishopric  he  politely  but  positively  declines.  The  proud 
duke  and  the  amazed  Council  are  sorely  disappointed 
and  greatly  dissatisfied.  They  needed  the  strong  man. 
They  summoned  Knox  to  appear  and  account  for  his 
conduct.  He  came;  and,  courteously  thanking  them 
for  the  honor,  plainly  told  them  his  reasons — Episco- 
pacy was  unscriptural,  unapostolic,  ruinous  to  the  inde- 
pendence and  liberty  of  the  Church.  The  strong  man 
would  work  for  them,  content  with  his  ^£40  a  year,  but 
he  would  not  take  a  palace,  a  peerage,  thousands  of 
pounds,  and  soil  his  conscience.  He  would  not  force 
them  to  think  with  him,  but  he  will  not  be  forced  to 
think  with  them.  And  John  Knox  walked  out  the  su- 
perior of  them  all ;  a  grand,  good  man,  splendid  in  his 


302  JOHN    KNOX, 

catholic  spirit  and  his  loyalty  to  conscience,  in  the  full 
maturity  of  his  convictions  and  his  courteous  recognition 
of  their  kindness,  in  his  sturdy  independence  and  his 
noble  elevation  above  human  ambitions  and  sordid  aims. 
Speedily  came  the  black  and  bloody  days.  Edv^ard 
is  dead,  Mary  reigns ;  fires  flame  and  blood  runs. 
That  tale  of  horror  must  some  time  be  told  at  St.  Paul's 
with  Latimer  at  the  stake.  Thousands  fly  for  life  and 
liberty,  bishops  even.  Knox,  without  his  £40, — as  in 
his  unfailing  fun  he  tells  us, — holds  his  ground,  preach- 
ing for  a  full  year  boldly  in  Buckinghamshire.  At  the 
end  of  November,  1553,  he  returns  to  Newcastle.  His 
friends  hear  that  the  bloodhounds  are  upon  his  track, 
and  they  wisely  compel  him  to  retire  to  the  continent. 
He  finds  friends  and  shelter  in  Dieppe,  whence  he  watches 
for  some  anxious  weeks  the  course  of  the  Marian  reac- 
tion and  the  wild,  disastrous  recoil  from  the  strain  to 
which  Somerset  and  Northumberland  had  subjected  the 
people.  John  Knox  learned  in  England  and  in  Dieppe 
that  you  cannot  force  a  real  reformation;  you  must  edu- 
cate by  the  truth  and  conquer  error  by  moral  and  not 
by  material  weapons.  He  had  seen  the  utter  hollow- 
ness  of  much  of  Henry's  work ;  he  had  seen  the  pliancy 
of  the  nobles  and  the  hypocrisy  of  the  prelates  ;  he  had 
seen  that  the  strength  of  English  Protestantism  lay  in 
the  burghers  of  the  towns,  in  the  country  gentry,  in  the 
freeholders  and  the  yeomen,  those  ancestors  of  the 
Puritans  and  those  forerunners  of  the  Ironsides ;  and 
that  lesson  he  never  forgot.  Scottish  history  and  suc- 
cess are  its  realization  and  embodiment.  During  those 
February  weeks,  the  first  calm  and  silence  this  earnest, 
devoted  man  hns  had  since  John  Rough  startled  him  by 
his  summons  to  his  life-service,  Knox  is  engaged  in  a 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  303 

thorough,  scrupulously-exact  study  of  his  life  and  re- 
view of  his  ministry.  He  is  alone  with  God,  and 
humbly  but  carefully  he  tries  himself  and  his  work. 
No  wonder  that  work  was  so  mighty ! 

After  this  reverent,  purifying  self-examination  and 
communion  with  God,  John  Knox  writes  a  long,  affec- 
tionate letter  to  his  mother-in-law,  a  cheering  pastoral 
to  his  old  friends,  and  an  eloquent  appeal  to  the  Prot- 
estants of  England.  The  pastoral  concludes  with  these 
remarkably  prophetic  words — words  foreshadowing  the 
work  of  Knox  in  Scotland  in  resisting  tyranny,  and  of 
his  Puritan  children  in  England  :  "  If  I  thought  I  might 
have  your  presence,  and  the  presence  of  some  other 
assured  men,  I  would  jeopard  my  own  life,  and  let  men 
see  what  may  be  done  with  a  safe  conscience  in  these 
dolorous  and  dangerous  days.  But  seeing  that  it  can- 
not be  done  instantly  without  danger  to  others  than  me, 
I  will  abide  the  time  which  God  shall  appoint.  But 
hereof  be  assured,  that  all  is  not  lawful  nor  just  that  is 
statute  by  civil  law  ;  neither  yet  is  everything  sin  before 
God  which  ungodly  persons  allege  to  be  treason."  The 
appeal  is  entitled  "  An  Admonition  to  the  Professors  of 
God's  Truth  in  England."  It  was  written  on  hearing 
of  the  imprisonment  of  Cranmer,  Ridley  and  Latimer, 
and  is  a  very  fervent  and  at  the  same  time  a  very  ve- 
hement exhortation  to  constancy.  He  denounces  the 
return  to  popery  in  a  strain  of  unmeasured  severity, 
sparing  no  amount  of  invective  even  against  the  queen 
herself.  One  passage,  which  came  to  be  of  note,  may 
give  some  idea  of  its  general  style  : 

"  In  writing  hereof,  it  came  to  mind  that  after  the 
death  of  that  innocent  and  godly  king,  Edward  VI., 
while  that  great  tumult  was  in  England  for  the  estab- 


304  JOHN    KNOX, 

lishment  of  that  most  unhappy  and  wicked  woman's 
authority — I  mean,  of  her  who  now  reigneth  in  God's 
wrath  —  entreating  the  same  argument  in  a  town  in 
Buckinghamshire  named  Hammershame,  before  a  great 
congregation,  with  sorrowful  heart  and  weeping  eyes  I 
fell  into  this  exclamation  : — 

"  '  0  Englande,  now  is  God's  wrath  kindled  against 
thee !  Now  has  he  begun  to  punish,  as  he  hath  threat- 
ened a  long  while  by  his  true  prophets  and  messengers. 
He  has  taken  from  thee  the  crown  of  thy  glory,  and 
hath  left  thee  without  honor,  as  a  body  without  a  head. 
And  this  appeareth  to  be  only  the  beginning  of  sorrow, 
which  appeareth  to  increase.  For  I  perceave  that  the 
herte,  the  tounge,  and  the  hand  of  one  Englyshe  man  is 
bente  agaynst  another,  and  devision  to  be  in  the  whole 
realme,  whiche  is  an  assured  signe  of  desolation  to  come. 

" '  0  Englande,  Englande  !  doest  thou  not  consider 
that  thy  common  wealth  is  lyke  a  shippe  sailyng  on  the 
sea ;  yf  thy  maryners  and  governours  shall  one  consume 
another,  shalte  thou  not  suffer  shipwracke  in  shorte 
processe  of  tyme  ? 

"'0  Englande,  Englande!  Alasse !  these  plagues 
are  powred  upon  thee,  for  that  thou  woldest  not  knowe 
the  moste  happy  tyme.  of  thy  gentle  visitation.  But 
wylte  thou  yet  obey  the  voyce  of  thy  Lord,  and  sub- 
mitte  thy  selfe  to  his  holy  wordes  ?  Truely,  yf  thou 
wilt,  thou  shalt  fynde  mercy e  in  his  syght,  and  the 
estate  of  thy  common  wealth  shall  be  preserved. 

"  ^  But,  0  Englande,  Englande  !  yf  thou  obstinatly 
wilt  returne  into  Egypt;  that  is,  yf  thou  contracte 
mariage,  confederacy  or  league,  with  such  princes  as  do 
mayntayne  and  advaunce  ydolatrye  (suche  as  the  em- 
pereure,  which  is   no   lesse   enemy   unto  Christe  then 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  305 

ever  was  Nero) ;  yf  for  the  pleasure  and  frenshippe 
(I  saye)  of  such  princes,  thou  returne  to  thyne  olde 
abhominations,  before  used  under  the  Papistrie,  then 
assuredly,  0  Englande !  thou  shalte  be  plagued  and 
brought  to  desolation,  by  the  meanes  of  those  whose 
favoures  thou  seekest,  and  by  whome  thou  arte  pro- 
cured to  fall  from  Christ,  and  to  serve  Antichrist.' " 

This  strong  but  stirring  appeal  found  its  way  into 
England — how  does  not  appear.  That  it  did  reach  its 
destination,  however,  and  did  produce  alarm  among 
those  it  denounced,  is  certain. 

Then  he  resolves  to  see  the  churches  of  Helvetia,  and 
converse  with  the  faithful  and  famous  men  of  the  Refor- 
mation that  he  might  test  by  comparison  his  own  work 
and  his  own  views  of  truth  and  church  order.  Every 
hour  Knox  is  a  student ;  every  opportunity  he  is  using 
for  the  struggle  soon  to  begin  in  Scotland.  Wherever 
the  now  familiar  and  honored  friend  of  Cranmer  and 
Ridley,  the  brave  witness  in  the  French  galley,  and  the 
king's  chaplain,  goes,  he  is  welcomed  with  open  arms. 
Round  him  the  pastors,  teachers  and  learned  Protest- 
ants rally,  and  he  talks  to  them  in  fluent,  forcible  Latin 
of  England's  past  glory  and  present  gloom.  To  him  at 
each  great  centre  come  for  consolation  the  exiled  bands 
of  the  English  fugitives.  Completing  his  tour,  and 
yearning  like  Paul  for  news  of  his  children  in  the  faith, 
Knox  hurries  back  to  Dieppe  to  get  his  letters,  and  then 
to  return  to  the  fight  and  perchance  the  fire  in  England. 
But  he  is  dissuaded,  not  without  much  difficulty,  from 
that  certainly  foolhardy  if  not  fatal  attempt.  To  Mary 
and  her  fierce  advisers  and  agents  in  her  bloody  cru- 
sade, Gardiner  and  Bonner,  John  Knox  was  more  hate- 
ful than  any  reformers  save  Cranmer  and  Latimer. 


306  JOHN    KNOX, 

To  Geneva  Knox  now  goes,  and  meets  for  the  first 
time  his  life-friend  and  distinguished  brother  in  the 
faith,  John  Calvin,  preacher-prince  of  the  city,  and 
master-teacher  of  the  reformed  churches.  Soon  Calvin, 
who  immediately  took  Knox  to  his  confidence  and  af- 
fection, persuades  the  matured  and  eloquent  Scotchman 
to  take  charge  of  the  English  congregation  at  Frank- 
fort-on-the-Main ;  and  the  faithful  man,  whose  toil  and 
pain  never  made  pause  in  his  work  for  souls  and  his 
Master,  takes  up  the  labor,  pushes  it  with  tact  and  suc- 
cess, till  the  ill-omened  coming  of  Cox  and  his  bigoted 
high-churchmen,  who,  worshipping  their  prayer-books 
and  their  liturgy  rather  than  Christ,  rend  the  congre- 
gation, lay  a  cowardly  and  lying  charge  of  treason  before 
the  magistrates  against  Knox,  and  stop  the  pleasant 
united  services.  Characteristic  and  prophetic  act  that ! 
There  will  be  many  such,  till  they  end  in  Cromwell  and 
Puritanism ! 

Driven  forth  again  by  persecution, — no  wonder  John 
Knox  liked  neither  high-churchism  nor  bishops, — the 
patient  and  forgiving  man,  for  such  he  showed  himself 
in  all  this  scandalous  and  most  vexatious  affair,  returns 
to  Geneva,  where  with  Christopher  Goodman  he  becomes 
pastor  of  the  English  church. 

For  five  years  he  is,  though  exile,  the  happy  pastor 
in  the  city  of  the  lake,  then  the  very  life-centre  of  the 
reformed  churches. 

"  Sweet  retreat  for  the  weary  !  I  ween. 
How  beauteous  is  the  scene ! 

The  snowy  Alps  like  walls  of  heaven 
Rise  o'er  the  Alps  of  green. 
Neath  steel-blue  sky  with  flashing  lights, 

Stretched  out  below  your  gladdened  eye, 

You  see  the  lake  serenely  lie 
Beneath  the  shadowy,  crystal  heights." 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  307 

Five  restful,  work-filled,  growth-filled  years  !  Those 
GeneA^an  hours  with  Calvin  and  Beza,  with  Christopher 
Goodman  and  the  many  good  and  devoted  fugitives 
whose  names  glisten  on  the  pages  of  the  "Livre  des 
Anglois,"  were  the  very  Sabbath  of  this  busy,  battling 
life ! — the  only  Sabbath  he  should  know  till  God  gave 
him  rest  from  his  labors  in  the  little  room  at  the  Neth- 
erbow  Port,  Then  and  there  the  student,  statesman 
and  saint  ripened  into  perfect  maturity  for  his  last  and 
his  immortal  work.  God  seems  to  give  to  many  of  his 
chief  servants  these  Sabbatisms  on  earth,  quiet  periods 
of  growth,  like  what  the  Scotch  and  the  Ulsterman  calls 
the  still  days  of  July — "  gray,  filling  days " — when  the 
grain  is  swelling  and  maturing :  Wycliffe  had  them  in 
Oxford,  Huss  in  his  retirement  at  Tabor,  Savonarola  in 
his  two  silent  years  before  his  Brescian  ministry,  Luther 
upon  the  Wartburg  and  Zwingle  at  Einsiedeln,  and 
Knox  in  Geneva.  Before  the  chief  life-effort  the  Master 
said,  "  Come  ye  yourselves  and  rest  awhile."  And  out 
of  that  Genevan  rest  the  Exile  steps  to  become  the 
Father  of  his  Country !  Those  five  years  of  quiet,  of 
watching,  of  silence  !  how  much  they  explain  !  There 
slowly  gathered,  as  the  fire  and  the  storm  in  the  slowly, 
silently-massing  clouds,  the  intense,  concentrated  fires 
and  fullness  of  resource  that  kindled  into  strong  and 
steady  flame  the  Scotch  hearts,  and  never  failed  till  a 
new  church  and  a  new  country  rose.  There  Knox  grew 
as  familiar  with  the  rival  courts  of  Paris  and  Madrid, 
with  the  spirit,  aims,  powers  and  allies  of  the  parties  of 
the  Guise,  the  Medici  and  the  Huguenot,  as  with  those 
of  the  Romish,  the  National  and  the  English  in  his 
native  land,  with  the  distractions  and  divisions  of  the 
Protestants  of  Europe,  the  secrets  of  their  weakness  and 


308  JOHN    KNOX, 

the  mistakes  in  their  civil  policy  and  church-forms,  with 
the  daily-strengthening  popish  reaction,  the  plots  of  com- 
bining courts  against  the  reformed  faith,  and  the  plans 
of  the  Vatican  to  unite  ambitious  princes  and  bigoted 
papists  in  a  new  crusade  whose  forces  should  march 
through  E-ome-ruled  Scotland  to  the  full  subjugation  of 
England  and  the  final  obliteration  of  Protestantism  in 
that  stubborn  stronghold.  There,  too,  Knox  so  multi- 
plied wise  and  watchful  friends  across  the  continent 
that  he  had  a  correspondent  at  every  strategic  point, 
and  a  reliable  informant  at  every  plotting  court.  There, 
too,  he  measured  the  whole  Scottish  field,  surveyed  the 
possible  forces,  saw  that  not  with  plotting  princes  and 
selfish  nobles,  but  with  pious  peasants  and  stout  burgh- 
ers, he  must  win  the  battle,  just  as  Cromwell,  his  great 
successor  in  the  long  fight  for  freedom,  saw  half  a  cen- 
tury later.  There  he  lived  in  silence,  thinking,  not 
idling,  but  waiting 

"  In  the  calm 
Of  one  who  hath  long  found  and  keeps  unswerving 
Clear  purpose  still." 

At  times  one  cannot  but  wonder  at  that  long,  weary 
waiting-time :  those  years  in  the  hiding-place,  those 
health-shattering  months  in  the  noisome  galley's  hold,  the 
years  of  English  ministry,  and  now  the  years  of  exile. 
"  Known  unto  the  Lord  is  the  end  from  the  beginning." 
"What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know 
hereafter."  And  now  it  is  plain  that  nothing  of  the  knowl- 
edge thus  gained  of  the  Lowland  peasants,  of  the  condi- 
tion of  England,  of  the  French  designs,  of  the  projects 
and  plans  of  the  rapidly-maturing  League,  can  possibly 
be  spared  if  Knox  is  ever  to  rally  a  force  whose  battle- 
word  is  "  No  surrender,"  is  ever  to  convince  the  astute 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  309 

Cecil,  is  ever  to  baffle  Maiy  of  Lorraine,  is  to  outwit  the 
cunning  Maitland,  is  to  master  the  ablest  and  most  deceit- 
ful woman  of  her  day  and  defeat  the  craftiest  and  deadli- 
est conspiracy  ever  hatched  by  the  Ahithophels  of  Rome. 
Late  in  life,  you  say,  to  step  forth  to  this  great  task 
of  remaking  a  country  and  reforming  a  church  !     Late  ! 

"  Ah,  nothing  is  too  late 
Till  the  tired  heart  shall  cease  to  palpitate. 
Cato  learned  Greek  at  eighty  ;  Sophocles 
Wrote  his  grand  Qidipus,  and  Simonides 
Bore  off  the  prize  of  verse  from  his  compeers, 
When  each  had  numbered  more  than  fourscore  years ; 
And  Theophrastus,  at  fourscore  and  ten, 
Had  but  begun  his  Characters  of  Men. 
Chaucer  at  Woodstock  with  his  nightingales, 
At  sixty  wrote  his  Canterbury  Tales ; 
Goethe  at  Weimar,  toiling  to  the  last, 
Completed  Faust  when  eighty  years  were  past. 
There  are,  indeed,  exceptions ;  but  they  show 
How  far  the  Gulf  Stream  of  our  youth  may  flow 
Into  the  arctic  regions  of  our  lives. 
When  little  else  than  life  itself  survives." 

Yea,  verily,  right  notable  work  the  world  has  seen 
wrought  by  men  past  fifty !  In  the  East  a  new  day 
began  with  the  Hegira  of  Mohammed,  then  fifty-three ; 
and  in  the  West,  with  the  grasping  by  Oliver  Cromwell, 
when  fifty,  of  the  helm  of  the  commonwealth,  and  the 
landing  of  John  Knox,  when  fifty-four,  in  Scotland, 
began  what  Green  calls  "  modern  England,  the  England 
among  whose  thoughts  and  sentiments  we  actually  live," 
that  memorable  and  momentous  era  "  more  glowing  and 
important  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind  than  the 
age  of  Pericles,  of  Augustus,  or  of  Leo,"  the  age  of 
Bacon,  Spenser  and  Shakespeare,  of  Melville  and  Knox, 
of  Cecil  and  Elizabeth  !  the  age  of  the  true  freemen,  of 
the  free  parliaments  and  the  free  gospel ! 


310  JOHN    KNOX, 

IV. — The  Maker  of  Scotland. 

If  Scotland,  her  sons  and  grandsons,  her  ideas,  prin- 
ciples, story  and  religion,  be  of  any  interest  to  mankind 
and  any  value  to  heaven  and  earth ;  if  Scotland  be  no 
mere  wild  welter  of  turbulent  factions  and  clans,  no 
wilderness  weary  and  wasted ;   if  she  be  no  more  either 
England's  foe  and  perplexity,  like  the  Ireland  of  to-day, 
or  the  hiding-place  of  base  traitors  and  cowardly  assas- 
sins, or  the  easy,  open  pathway  for  England's  invaders ; 
if  she  be  a  true  power  working  mightily  for  truth,  faith 
and  liberty ;  if  she  have  saving  and  ennobling  forces  to 
use  for  the  world's  to-day  and  to-morrow,  anything  to 
stir  men's  blood  withal, — and  without  either  impertinent 
arrogance  or  paltry  pride  we  may  claim  for  Scotland  and 
her  own  Ulster,  for  the  Scotch  and  Scotch-Irish,  at  least 
that  meed  of  praise, — then  this  reformation  and  trans- 
formation must  have  adequate  cause  :  that  cause  under 
God   is    pre-eminently   one   man,   one    Spirit-born  and 
Spirit-guided  man,  with  his  faith  and  his  work.     Chris- 
tian, Presbyterian  Scotland  has  poured  forth  into  the 
world  and  still  continues  to  pour  a  vitalizing  and  puri- 
fying flood,  a  social  and  moral  Gulf  Stream ;  and  this 
river  of  life — this   broadening  river  of  the  free  civil 
life,  of  the  strengthening,  sanctifying  spiritual  life, — this 
river  blessing  many  nations  of  earth,  and  making  more 
and  more  glad  the  Presbyterian  city   of  God, — flows 
straight  from  one  spring,  a  spring  God-given,  God-kept, 
God-filled — the  deep  heart  and  matured  faith,  the  life 
and  labors,  of  John  Knox.     Before  him  was  no  such 
Scotland ;  after  him  Scotland  has  become  and  continues 
to  be  one  of  the  true  rulers  of  the  world.     Her  monu- 
ment will  be  found  in  her  own  Presbyterianism  and  its 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  311 

outgrowth,  English  Puritanism ;  their  work  is  pre-emi- 
nently this  Republic  of  the  West.  If,  then,  you  seek 
Knox's  monument,  look  around  !  . 

Knox  came  back  to  Scotland  in  a  dark  day  when  all 
things  seemed  conspiring  and  co-operating  to  make  the 
luckless  land  of  his  birth  and  of  his  anxieties  the  en- 
slaved province  of  France,  a  nation  which  has  always 
degraded,  ruined  and  finally  lost  her  conquests  and 
colonies.     John  Knox  barred  that  way  of  death. 

He  came  back  to  Scotland  in  a  day  when  there  w^as 
no  true  Scottish  people,  no  sturdy  commons  as  now 
known  in  history.  There  were  warring,  jealous  nobles, 
patriotic  somewhat  but  selfish  rather,  as  we  see  from 
the  stories  of  the  Balliols,  Comyns  and  Hamiltons;  there 
were  restless  clans,  feudal  retainers,  some  promising 
burghers  and  traders,  and  a  loose  mob  of  common  folk, 
but  no  people.  John  Knox  changed  that  dismal  state 
of  things. 

He  came  back  to  Scotland  when  the  reformed  faith 
was  verily  in  the  death-gasp ;  he  restored  life  and 
nursed  it  into  victorious  strength  and  robust  health. 

He  came  back  when  there  was  no  organized  church 
of  the  gospel.  The  resolute  reformer  founded  the 
"  Auld  Kirk,"  and  the  great  moderator  made  her  the 
most  compact  and  symmetrical  church  in  Christendom, 
so  far  as  organization  and  form  are  concerned. 

He  came  back  to  Scotland  when  there  were  no  com- 
mon schools  and  but  six  grammar  schools.  He  planned 
and  labored  to  have  a  suitable  school  beside  each 
church ; — religion  in  his  land  was  not  to  be  uneducated, 
nor  education  irreligious. 

And  Knox  left  behind  him  a  steady,  conscientious. 
God-fearing  nation,  a  sturdy,  school-loving,  courageous 


312  JOHN    KNOX, 

people,  a  conquering,  colonizing  Presbyterian  people, 
guarding  liberty  and  loving  the  Bible,  God's  Magna 
Charta  of  fullest  freedom,  singing  "  Scots  wha  hae"  and 
raising  "  plaintive  Martyrs"  or  "  wild  Dundee"  amid  the 
snows  of  Sutherlandshire  and  Canada,  by  the  banks  of 
the  Lagan,  the  Schuylkill  and  Susquehanna,  on  the 
walls  of  Quebec  and  Derry,  in  the  frosty  blasts  of  Min- 
nesota and  the  sultry  air  of  Katiawar,  upon  the  hills  of 
Down  and  Virginia,  across  the  wheat-fields  of  our  own 
great  West  and  along  the  sheep-walks  of  Australia. 

"Breathes  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land  !" 

And  it  was  John  Knox  made  these  lines  possible. 
"  Scotch  literature  and  thought,  Scotch  industry ;  James 
Watts,  David  Hume,  Walter  Scott,  Robert  Burns," — 
(and  must  we  not  now  add  that  true  son  of  Knox,  the 
rugged  but  real  Scotchman  whose  words  these  are, — 
Thomas  Carlyle  ?), — "  I  find  Knox  and  the  Reformation 
acting  in  the  heart's  core  of  every  one  of  those  persons 
and  phenomena ;  I  find  that  without  the  Reformation 
they  would  not  have  been.  Or  what  of  Scotland  ?"  To 
us,  Scotch  and  Scotch-Irish,  race  of  resolute  freemen, 
well  may  the  name  of  John  Knox  be  ever  a  battle- 
blast  and  household  boast !  father  of  Scotland,  founder 
of  the  old  church,  framer  of  the  sacred  covenant !  oh, 
men  of  the  blue  banner,  forget  not  the  great  standard- 
bearer  of  your  King ! 

Come,  now,  let  us  study  his  work  somewhat  in  de- 
tail,— this  splendid  formation,  this  making  of  historic 
Scotland. 

John  Knox  saved  his  country.  He  foiled  the  queen- 
mother,  the  Romish  faction  and  France.     In  1555  the 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  313 

reformer  had  made  a  flying  visit  to  Scotland ;  and  into 
the  brief  months  of  this  stay  he  had  by  his  far-seeing 
plans,  his  zeal,  his  contagious  enthusiasm  and  his  pow- 
erful spirit  really  condensed  the  toil  of  years.  Like 
Elijah  coming  out  of  his  periodic  retirements,  Knox 
burst  forth  and  wrought  with  a  concentrated  purpose 
and  power  that  in  a  short  time  accomplished  a  great 
revolution.  Many  converts  were  won  to  the  reformed 
faith ;  the  halting  became  decided ;  many  lairds  allied 
themselves  with  the  Protestant  party,  and  also  several 
nobles.  These  lords  and  peasants  separated  themselves 
from  the  Romish  communion  and  formed  the  nucleus  of 
the  coming  church  of  Scotland. 

After  the  departure  of  Knox  to  resume  his  work  in 
Geneva,  he  was  summoned  to  appear  before  the  Romish 
bar,  he  was  condemned  as  a  pestilent  heretic  to  be  burnt 
alive.  This  sentence  was  executed  upon  his  effigy,  and 
a  fresh  decree  of  outlawry  and  of  major  excommunica- 
tion pronounced.  Probably  Calvin's  city  was  the  one 
only  place  where  he  could  have  remained  three  years  in 
peace  and  safety. 

But  in  1559,  after  repeated  calls  from  the  leaders  of 
the  patriotic  and  Protestant  party,  which  had  been 
gradually  rising  from  pressing  entreaties  almost  to  posi- 
tive commands,  John  Knox  returned,  just  ten  years 
after  he  had  been  so  treacherously  carried  off  to  slavery 
in  the  galley.  He  landed  on  the  second  of  May  at 
Leith.  He  had  been  forbidden  through  the  paltry  spite 
of  Elizabeth,  that  proud  stickler  for  the  divine  right  of 
kings,  to  pass  through  England.  Forever  let  the  first 
May-days  be  in  Scotland  red-letter  days  !  The  great 
jubilee-trumpets  sounded  on  that  happy  May-day ! 
Knox  came  with  the  fullest  knowledge,  and  with  posi- 

21 


314  JOHN    KNOX, 

tive  evidence  just  acquired  on  shipboard,  of  the  Guise- 
Romish  plot  against  Scottish  and  English  independence. 
Active  correspondent  that  he  ever  was,  he  had  searched 
carefully  into,  and  been  thoroughly  informed  of,  the 
subtle  and  complicated  plots  of  Rome,  Paris,  Madrid, 
Holyrood  and  St.  Andrews,  and  also  those  of  the  Cath- 
olics in  London  and  the  north  of  England.  Shrewd 
questioner  that  he  was,  he  had  discovered  on  board 
the  very  vessel  in  which  he  sailed  an  agent  of  France 
and  Mary  Stuart  going  to  the  English  papists  and  to 
Mary  of  Lorraine ;  and  from  him  Knox  ferreted  out  the 
whole  secret.  The  keen-eyed  watcher  was  therefore 
fully  prepared  for  the  arrant  treachery  of  Mary  of  Lor- 
raine ;  and  hence  it  in  no  wise  surprised  him,  though 
it  roused  his  honest  indignation,  fired  his  zeal  and 
decided  his  course,  to  see  his  friends  in  their  simple- 
hearted  truthfulness  so  vilely  duped  by  the  wily  regent. 
On  meeting  the  Lords  of  the  Congregation  he  learned 
that  the  false  Guise  woman,  having  served  her  purpose 
by  its  proclamation,  had  now  decreed  the  revocation  of 
her  lately-given,  yes,  her  solemnly-pledged  edict  of  tole- 
ration, had  outlawed  all  the  Protestant  preachers,  Knox 
in  particular,  had  banned  the  congregation,  and  had  in 
obedience  to  the  behests  of  her  brothers  and  her  bishops 
commenced  fresh  persecutions.  By  many  of  his  friends 
Knox  was  urged  to  fly  once  more.  No !  he  knew  the  time 
for  action  had  now  come;  he  knew  Scotland,  and  that  she 
was  ready  for  the  first  great  struggle.  That  character- 
istic act  of  the  queen-mother,  now  regent,  was  the  spark 
to  the  powder  which  had  been  massed,  ready  for  explo- 
sion, since  yon  fiend-like  burning  a  few  months  ago  at 
St.  Andrews  of  Walter  Milne,  the  beloved  and  the 
hoary-headed  reforming  priest  of  the  blameless  life  and 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  315 

the  sweetest  charity.  John  Knox  would  not  fly ;  he 
resolved  to  fight ;  he  reheartened  the  lords  ;  he  pealed 
the  trumpet  of  defiance,  and  the  Lowlands  answered 
back  the  cry  and  the  Perthshire  Highlanders  re-echoed 
it.  The  Lords  of  the  Congregation,  name  as  memorable 
in  the  annals  of  Scotland  as  Egmont  and  Horn  in  the 
Netherlands  or  Pym  and  Hampden  in  England,  took 
heart  again,  regrasped  their  abandoned  arms,  summoned 
the  daring  yet  shrewd  Knox  to  their  side  and  their 
councils,  and  prepared  now  in  earnest  for  the  first  great 
fight  in  Scotland  on  behalf  of  Christ's  crown  and  cove- 
nant. John  Knox,  the  master  of  the  storm  and  the 
very  soul  of  the  party  of  freedom,  said,  "  Satan  rageth 
to  the  uttermost,  and  I  am  come,  thank  God,  in  the  very 
brunt  of  the  battle."  Brave  hero  of  the  good  fight !  he 
never  left  that  battle-brunt  till  death  ! 

In  Scotland,  as  in  Zurich  and  Geneva,  and  as  ulti- 
mately was  seen  in  France  during  the  Guise-Conde 
struggle  and  in  Germany  during  the  wars  of  Wallenstein 
and  Gustavus  Adolphus,  the  separation  of  religion  from 
politics  and  great  national  questions  was  a  complete  im- 
possibility. Piety  and  patriotism  went  together ;  yes, 
the  Bible  and  battle.  That  fact  must  be  borne  in  mind 
if  we  sincerely  wish  to  understand  this  memorable  era 
and  to  deal  justly  with  its  memorable  men.  Then  min- 
gling with  the  work  of  the  Reformation  and  thwarting, 
yes  largely  marring,  the  labors  of  the  Scottish  reform- 
ers and  their  infant  church,  were  the  plans  of  the  ever- 
selfish  nobles,  the  rival  projects  of  the  jealous  houses  ; 
there  were  the  plots  of  France,  England  and  Spain  ;  and 
behind  all  these  now  co-working  and  now  conflicting 
forces  there  were  the  ceaseless  conspiracies  and  the* 
deadly  designs  of  Rome.     It  was  a  stern  hour,  needing 


316  JOHN   KNOX, 

and  filled  by  strong  men ;  the  stronger  man  has  now 
come.  Knox  sees  at  once  that  freedom  can  be  won  for 
land  and  conscience  only  by  force,  and  he  is  ready  for 
the  strife.  His  old  master,  John  Major,  had  very  early 
shown  him  the  unstatesmanlike  and  unscriptural  nature 
of  "  passive  resistance,"  and  the  right  and  the  duty  of 
the  community  to  take  strongest  measures  for  its  self- 
preservation  and  the  deposition  of  tyrants.  And  his 
own  life  and  his  study  of  the  continent  had  amplified 
and  confirmed  these  opinions.  These  bold  views,  now 
so  familiar  and  so  fixvored  of  all  freemen,  form  the  most 
striking  parts  of  his  grand  appeal  to  England,  and  his 
rousing  blast  against  Mary  Tudor,  for  which  she  hated 
him  and  on  account  of  which  mean-spirited  Elizabeth 
never  forgave  him.  The  Tudor  instinct  took  alarm  at 
the  man  who  began  the  revolution  in  which  was  lost  for- 
ever the  divine  right  of  kings.  Knox  is  now  in  the 
midst  of  the  congregation  and  with  its  armed,  resolute 
yeoman-soldiery.  He  cheers  them  forward  to  the  good 
fight.  He  is  in  himself  an  army.  He  does  not  ap- 
prove, nay,  in  terms  he  disapproves,  of  the  Perth  riots, 
and  the  consequent  destruction  of  the  church  and  mo- 
nastic buildings,  saying  they  were  the  acts  of  "  the 
rascal  multitude."  He  encourages  to  the  fullest,  how- 
ever, and  guides  by  his  larger  knowledge  and  unfailing 
foresight  the  Protestant  leaders ;  he  preaches  cheering 
and  earnest  sermons  to  the  brave  burghers  and  yeomen 
in  the  steel  bonnets ;  he  rushes  like  a  prophet  of  fire 
through  the  Lowlands  and  along  the  borders  ;  he  stirs  to 
fresh  activity  the  English  ambassador,  utterly  disheart- 
ened and  disgusted  by  reason  of  Elizabeth's  stinginess, 
vacillation  and  dislike  of  Knox;  he  corresponds  with 
Cecil,  who   is  full  of  admiration    for    Knox's  ability ; 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  317 

he  foils  and  perplexes  the  Jesuit  and  the  Guise,  the 
French  allies  and  the  emissaries  of  the  pope ;  he 
draughts  and  pushes  to  a  happy  conclusion,  by  Cecil's 
aid,  the  famous  and  pivotal  treaty  of  Berwick  by  which 
Elizabeth  and  England  for  their  own  safety  came  at 
last  to  the  aid  of  the  Congregation,  the  Estates  and  the 
reformed  Scotland.  Thus  for  a  year,  scarce  waiting 
even  to  sleep,  wrought,  despite  his  weak  body  and  oft- 
times  most  painful  disease,  this  ruler  of  the  wild  crisis ; 
till  the  lords  were  victorious,  till  the  French  in  Leith 
were  by  siege  starved  to  surrender,  till  their  troops 
went  home,  and  the  ever-plotting,  resolute,  daring,  de- 
ceitful Mary  of  Lorraine  went  with  broken  heart  and 
ruined  plans,  with  wasted  frame  and  lost  life,  down  to 
her  unlamented  grave.  To  Scotland  Cecil  himself  comes 
down,  and  finds  that  his  best  helpers  are  the  three  men 
who  are  Knox's  best  friends  and  most  trustful  as- 
sistants, Argyle  "  the  goodly  gentleman,  universally 
honored  of  all  Scotland,"  Lord  James  Stuart,  like  "  a 
king's  son  in  person  and  qualities,"  and  Maitland,  "  most 
in  credit  for  his  wit."  That  triumvirate  and  the  minister 
of  St.  Giles  now  ruled  Scotland.  The  treaty  of  Edin- 
burgh was  concluded ;  "  the  objects  for  which  the  war 
had  been  undertaken  were  obtained.  The  Scots  were 
left  to  their  own  resources  to  go  on  with  the  Reforma- 
tion. Elizabeth's  crown  was  secured.  The  Catholics 
had  seen  their  opportunity  fade  away  amidst  the  diplo- 
matic perplexities  of  Europe."  Scotland  was  saved  from 
her  last  deadly  peril  save  one,  and  Knox  saved  her. 

Knox  calls  forth  the  Commons  of  Scotland.  Durinn; 
the  past  year  and  in  the  opening  months  of  this  1560, 
Knox  has  been  prosecuting  an  even  more  fruitful  work  ; 
has  been  achieving  a  grander   victory  than  that  over 


318  JOHN    KNOX, 

the  queen-mother  and  the  French,  certainly  a  much 
more  permanent  triumph, — the  creation  of  the  Scottish 
Commons  and  their  introduction  into  public  life.  A 
new  power  now  exists  in  the  state.  It  is  the  party  and 
power  of  conquest.  The  Scottish  people  begins  to  be. 
The  people  of  a  land  are  its  real  princes.  Too  much 
has  history  of  old  been  a  heraldry  of  princes,  a  genealogy 
of  kings.  Many  readers  long  felt  that  method  to  be  a 
very  serious  fault  of  the  older  annalists.  Macaulay 
and  Froude,  Motley  and  Green,  have  proved  it  to  be  a 
fault,  and  have  made  their  better  way  win  the  world 
through  their  lifelike  and  unfading  pictures  of  the  masses 
and  their  masters.  What  are  the  people  of  a  country  ? 
what  are  their  native  peculiarities,  gifts  and  powers  ? 
what  have  been  their  religions,  their  contests,  victories, 
defeats  ?  what  were  their  original  conceptions  and  cus- 
toms as  shown  in  their  speech,  usages,  ballads  and 
traditions  ?  how  much  or  how  little  has  there  been  of 
foreign  elements  mixed  with  the  original  stock  ? — these 
ethnical,  popular,  vital  questions  are  now  felt  to  be  the 
questions  of  chief  importance  to  the  students  of  great 
critical  movements,  and  their  fuller,  if  not  final,  answers 
will  yield  fresher  and  more  fruitful  themes  than  the 
study  of  the  family  rolls  of  the  Angevin  or  the  Guelph. 
These  remarks  are  specially  applicable  to  Scottish 
story,  and  pre-eminently  to  the  tale  of  this  "  wild  crisis," 
this  period  of  Knox  and  the  Reformation.  That  war  for 
freedom  and  faith  was  very  largely  a  "peasant-war;" 
though  it  was  a  peasant-war  immeasurably  distinct  in 
its  aims,  and  different  in  its  results,  from  that  of  Ger- 
many. In  Scotland  there  had  been  of  old  nobles,  lairds, 
retainers,  chieftains,  clansmen ;  but  no  commons,  no 
banded  burghers,  no  middle  class.    The  people  as  found 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  319 

in  England,  the  Netherlands  and  Germany,  the  burghers 
meeting  us  in  the  Lombard  and  Hanseatic  leagues,  the 
organized  commons  as  presented  in  Nuremberg,  in  many 
free  cities  and  their  territories,  did  not  in  the  opening 
of  the  sixteenth  century  exist  in  northern  Britain. 
There  were  present,  indeed,  splendid  and  unsurpassed 
materials.  There  were  in  the  Highlanders,  but  specially 
in  the  Lowlanders,  the  representatives  of  the  grand  old 
British  stock,  enriched  with  a  strong  dash  of  the  blood 
of  Angles,  Saxons,  Jutes  and  Scots.  In  southern 
Scotland,  which  is,  so  far  as  the  Reformation*  and  its 
consequent,  the  national  revolution,  are  concerned,  the 
chief,  indeed  almost  the  only,  factor  of  importance,  there 
was  a  mass  of  sturdy,  self-reliant,  shrewd  peasants, 
fairly  represented  by  the  Lollard  Reids,  Shaws,  Camp- 
bells and  Chalmers  of  Ayrshire,  by  Craig  and  Knox  of 
the  Lothians,  by  Armstrong  and  Kerr  and  Brown  of  the 
borders.  They  were  a  mettlesome  set  of  folk,  some- 
what rude  and  rough,  used  to  the  chase  and  weapons, 
familiar  with  the  flame  of  the  bale-fires  and  not  loath  to 
hear  the  battle-call;  but  religious  and  fervid  withal; 
thoughtful,  argumentative,  slow  to  be  convinced,  but 
stubborn  as  unyielding  granite  when  persuaded ;  fond 
of  their  homes  and  lands,  passionately  patriotic  even 
for  Scotchmen,  cherishing  affectionately  their  ancestral 
memories  and  deeply  moved  by  them  ;  poor,  but  thrifty 
and  full  of  the  practical  sagacity,  the  hard-headed  sense 
and  the  heroic  perseverance  taught  in  the  stern  school 
of  necessary  self-denial.  So  they  meet  us  in  the  pages 
of  ^neas  Silvius,  in  the  pictures  of  the  sharp-eyed 
because  selfish  Frenchmen  who  desired  to  serve  them- 
selves of  the  land,  in  the  letters  of  the  Spanish  secre- 
taries and  of  Cecil's  assents,  in  the  ballads,  the  minstrelsy 


320  JOHN    KNOX, 

and  tales  of  the  borders.  Of  Highland  lineage  though 
I  be,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  I  know  no  people  of 
richer  blood,  of  finer  traditions  and  more  romantic  story 
than  these  Lowlanders. 

Theirs  was  the  land  of  the  cist,  the  cromlech  and  the 
cairn,  the  land  of  the  Strathclyde  Britons  and  of  the 
Cymri  down  to  the  days  of  Malcolm ;  theirs  was  the 
land  of  inspiring  romance,  of  weird  tales,  of  heroic  ideals, 
of  ballad  minstrelsy,  of  simple  epics,  the  land,  according 
to  Skene,  Glennie  and  Veitch,  of  Arthur  and  Merlin . 
theirs  the  land  of  the  sturdy  Angle  with  his  moulding 
laws  and  language  and  his  civilizing  customs,  whither 
to  make  the  race  richer  in  qualities  came  the  Norseman 
and  the  Gael;  theirs  was  the  land  of  Kentigern,  the 
St.  Mungo  of  Glasgow,  "  the  saint  of  the  Clyde,  the 
Tweed  and  the  Teviot  to  the  Reformation,"  and  also  of 
St.  Cuthbert  of  Lindisfarne ;  theirs  was  the  land  whose 
glens  and  rivers  and  hills  and  rocks,  whose  crowding 
histories,  daring  deeds,  "  tradition,  legend,  the  contin- 
uous flow  of  song,  ballad  and  music,  wholly  native,  have 
moved  the  feelings  and  moulded  the  imagination  not 
only  of  the  people  of  the  district,  but  of  the  whole  land 
of  Scotland."  ..."  By  peculiarities  of  physical  features, 
by  a  very  ancient  history,  by  fusion  of  races,  by  lan- 
guage and  social  manners,  by  the  written  and  unwritten 
poetry  of  its  people,  these  southern  uplands  have  so 
influenced  the  whole  history  of  Scotland  that  without 
considering  them  we  cannot  understand  our  present  na- 
tionality, nor  would  that  nationality  have  been  as  it  is." 
These  were  the  people  that  treasured  the  memories 
of  Wycliffe  and  of  Cranmer;  these  were  the  people 
among  whom  safely  moved  the  Lollards  from  Kyle ; 
these   were  the   people  that  caught  up  the   words   of 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  321 

Hamilton,  comparing  them  with  their  hereditary  mem- 
ories of  better  and  brighter  days  ;  these  were  the  people 
who  furnished  the  earnest  and  awed  groups  gathering 
in  kitchens  and  barns,  in  village  streets  and  at  cross- 
roads, yes,  and  not  seldom  those  great  field  congrega- 
tions which  in  hidden  glen  or  beside  the  sheltering 
clumps  of  trees  gathered  with  firm-set  face  and  yet 
fired  hearts  around  Aless,  Forrest,  Williams,  Wishart, 
Milne,  and  now  around  John  Knox.  There  and  then 
they  grew  from  the  Tweed  to  the  Tay  what  some  of  us 
have  seen,  loved,  yes,  lived  and  labored  with,  what 
more  of  us  through  reading  know,  the  hard-faced,  firm- 
eyed,  close-mouthed,  hot-hearted,  deep-souled  foes  of 
tyranny  and  lovers  of  God,  the  resolute,  stiff-necked, 
unconquerable  commons  of  the  Lowlands.  These  were 
the  true  sires  of  the  true  Scotchmen.  These  were  the 
people  that  rallied  to  the  wild  alarm-cry  of  the  sickly 
man  from  the  galley ;  the  people  that  put  on  the  steel 
bonnet,  gripped  the  oft-hacked  sword  of  the  old  Bor- 
derer, and  shouldered  the  shafted  scythe  for  the  army 
of  the  Congregation  and  for  the  stubborn  defiance  of  the 
queen  and  Rome,  and  won  because  they  believed  in 
Deity  and  not  in  defeat ;  the  people  that  calmly  drew 
blood  to  sign  the  Covenant,  and  then  more  calmly  shed 
it  all  to  defend  Christ's  crown  and  covenant ;  the  people 
that  gave  birth  and  battle-cry  to  the  English  Puritan, 
his  immortal  band  and  his  immortal  work ;  the  people 
that  kept  alive  the  fundamental  ideas  and  principles  of 
the  great  act  of  1560  ;  the  people  that  accordingly  never 
ceased  to  strive  against  absolutism  and  for  constitution- 
alism, and  gave  birth  to  the  "  Fifty  Years'  Struggle"  for 
free  laws  and  free  churches ;  the  people  that  met  on 
mountain  and  moor,  that  dared  the  rage  and  died  by  the 


322  JOHN    KNOX, 

bloody  hands  of  Claverhonse,  yet  defied  and  defeated 
the  brutal  rage  of  that  murderous  miscreant,  the  bigotry 
of  his  master  and  the  persecutions  of  his  intolerant 
church ;  the  people  that  planted,  pacified  and  trans- 
formed Ulster,  that  held  Derry  against  the  Stuart  and 
his  Redshanks,  and  a  third  time  saved  the  liberties  of 
Britain  and  the  cause  of  Protestantism ;  the  people 
whom  Jeremy  Taylor  and  the  Episcopal  Church  per- 
secuted and  defrauded,  and  despotic  landlords  oppressed 
and  drove  maddened  across  the  sea ;  the  people  that  so 
largely  made  this  grand  Commonwealth,  that  first  raised 
in  the  Mecklenburg  Declaration  the  cry  of  independence, 
that  supplied  through  the  Synod  of  Philadelphia  and 
John  Witherspoon  many  of  the  terms  and  more  of  the 
thoughts  of  our  Great  Charter,  that  gave  to  the  army 
of  liberation  Wayne  and  Knox  and  Morgan  and  Lach- 
lan  Macintosh,  with  thirty-six  more  as  generals  and  a 
very  legion  of  officers,  that  bravely  fought  and  freely 
bled  for  their  republic ;  that  people,  our  own  people, 
yes,  our  own  flesh  and  blood,  then  began  as  a  people  to 
be.  Knox,  the  Reformation,  the  Gospel,  Presbyterian- 
ism,  the  Covenants  and  Catechisms,  really  made  the 
Commons  of  Scotland. 

Never,  therefore,  let  the  relation  of  John  Knox  to 
this  country  be  forgotten ;  nor  ever  let  the  relation 
of  his  Scotch  and  his  Scotch-Irish  children  to  this  land, 
its  revolt  and  its  victory  and  its  growth,  be  forgotten. 
Here  with  the  blood  of  the  Puritans  in  me, — for  I  do 
draw  direct  my  blood  through  one  straight  channel  from 
not  the  least  brave  and  worthy  of  the  Ironside  leaders, 
a  man  whom  Cromwell  loved  and  trusted  in  many  a 
rugged  crisis  without  orders, — here  with  the  blood  of 
the  Puritan  and  the  Presbyterian  mingling  in  me,  I  say 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  323 

solemnly  what  God,  the  God  of  battle,  of  peace,  the  God 
of  church  and  state,  our  God  and  our  fathers'  God,  what 
God  hath  joined  in  the  splendid  and  sacred  wedlock  of 
pious  heroism  and  God-taught  independence,  of  Scottish 
Presbyterian  and  English  Puritan,  let  no  man  put  asun- 
der. As  a  child  of  the  Commonwealth  and  the  Cov- 
enant, I  bar  and  forbid,  in  the  name  of  God  and  of  his- 
tory, of  the  mother-lands  and  of  our  own  republic,  the 
unhallowed  divorce.  We  are  of  the  one  family,  spring- 
ing from  the  Mayflower  and  the  Eagle-wing ! 

To  that  people  living,  to  avail  myself  of  Moffat's 
closing  sentences,  in  those  very  "  parts  of  the  country 
which  in  earlier  ages  had  been  the  special  scenes  of  the 
evangelical  work  of  Ninian,  of  Kentigern,  of  Columba 
and  their  respective  followers,  and  where  Palladius 
found  believers  in  Christ,"  to  that  people  "in  whom 
survived  through  all  the  obscurity  fond  hankerings  after 
the  earlier  faith,  and  in  whom  these  were  now  awaking 
again  to  activity  in  the  warmth  and  light  of  the  liber- 
ated gospel,"  to  that  people  "  whose  hereditary  mem- 
ories, holding  on  so  amazingly  for  centuries,"  were  now 
conscious,  vivid,  present,  potent  factors,  came  John 
Knox,  the  flame-like  apostle  of  the  Church  and  the 
Christ  of  freedom.  Often  had  their  fathers  thrilled, 
grasped  their  familiar  arms  and  rushed  to  the  foray  or 
defence  of  their  homes  when  the  bale-fire 

"  Waved  like  a  blood-flag  on  the  sky 
All  flaming  and  uneven." 

And  these,  their  children,  rose  as  fast  and  strong  and 
brave  at  the  signal  of  Knox.  Under  him  they  started 
into  fiery  action ;  by  him  they  were  moulded  and 
shaped  ;  and  ever  since  John  Knox  has  been  model  and 


324  JOHN    KNOX, 

inspiration  to  the  pious  peasantry  of  Scotland  and  of 
Ulster.  No  paternity  was  ever  deeper  marked  on  child's 
face  and  character.  The  Ulster  volunteer  and  tenant- 
righter  are  as  manifestly  the  children  of  John  Knox  as 
Samuel  Rutherford  or  Janet  Geddes.  Some  singularly 
favorable  opportunities  have  been  mine  to  trace  this 
likeness.  Many  a  month  have  I  walked  the  fields  of 
the  Route  and  studied  their  farmers ;  among  the  firm- 
hearted  yeomanry  of  Connor  lay  my  first  parish  ;  and  for 
years  was  I  daily  in  contact  with  the  free  men  of  Down. 
To  this  very  hour  these  sturdy  and  splendid  children  of 
the  Plantation  are  a  marked  Scotch  colony  of  Knoxlike 
Presbyterians ;  and  they  present  those  remarkable  yet 
ever-present  peculiarities  of  vigorous  colonies  wherever 
they  are  isolated  by  being  planted  in  a  strange  land  and 
amid  aliens  in  faith  and  feelino:s,  the  stern  retention 
and  the  resolute  conservation  of  the  features,  speech, 
proverbs,  traditions  and  songs,  yes  the  very  prejudices 
and  hatreds,  of  the  mother-country.  The  work,  the 
teaching,  the  battling,  the  strong  dislikes,  the  far-seeing- 
fears,  the  sternly-plain  Presbyterianism  of  John  Knox 
are  to-day  as  plainly  met  along  the  Sixmilewater,  the 
sides  of  the  Sleamish  and  Carnerney,  the  moors  of  the 
Route,  the  vales  of  Derry  and  the  rolling  hills  of  Down 
as  they  could  have  been  seen  in  the  Kyles  of  Ayr,  by 
the  banks  of  the  Clyde,  upon  the  fields  of  Renfrew  or 
Dumfries,  when  Peden  preached  or  Brown  was  martyred. 
A  right  powerful  peasantry  and  noble  yeomanry  did 
Knox  make  of  them  in  his  flying  visit  in  1555,  and  still 
more  so  in  1560,  when  for  a  long  year  he  rushed,  defi- 
ant of  disease  and  weakness,  of  soldiers,  of  assassins' 
daggers  and  bullets,  not  as  with  fiery  cross,  but  as  "  a 
flaming   evangelist"   with   the   living  gospel,  from   the 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  325 

Forth  to  the  Solway,  from  Berwick  to  Stirling.  Upon 
this  great  mission  Knox  started  at  the  most  opportune 
moment.  Three  stakes  and  their  three  martyrs  had 
stirred  the  country  people  and  the  townsfolk  alike  to 
the  very  soul-depths, — Hamilton's,  Forrest's  and  Wis- 
hart's, — and  now  came  the  martyrdom  of  the  venerable 
Milne.  The  people  were  at  white  heat.  John  Knox 
struck  them  and  they  bore  the  image  of  the  King.  To 
no  people  is  Christ  as  king  more  dear.  In  that  mission, 
so  memorable  and  so  widely  momentous,  Knox  touched 
two  master-chords  in  the  Scotch  heart,  creed  and  coun- 
try. Their  whole  manhood  thrilled  to  his  touch  and 
responded.  Not  country  and  creed,  as  Dean  Stanley 
said  in  his  brilliant  but  unhistoric  and  misleading  lec- 
tures upon  ecclesiastical  questions  and  parties  in  Scot- 
land, but  first  creed  and  then  country.  To  the  heir  of 
the  old  British  believer  piety  must  ever  be  more  than 
patriotism ;  and  yet  our  race  is  patriotic,  but  patriotic 
because  it  is  pious.  Yes,  ever  since  that  day  of  Knox 
for  the  true  Scotch  Presbyterian  and  his  descendants  it 
has  been  first  Christ's  Crown  and  Covenant,  then  our 
Land  and  Liberty.  That  mission  of  Knox  was  it  that 
filled  the  army  of  the  Congregation,  and  bound  and  held 
all  together  till  the  Guise  was  baffled  and  the  French 
withdrew ;  that  made  a  pious  peasantry  rise  in  revolt 
when  Elizabeth  would  force  back  upon  them  the  be- 
fouled, bloodstained  Mary  Stuart,  and  baffled  the  papist 
party  in  Scotland,  and  prepared  for  the  defeat  of  the 
Catholic  League. 

Knox  founded  the  Church  of  Scotland.  If  the 
Commons  of  Scotland  were  Knox's  work,  still  more 
truly  was  the  Church.  He  was  the  "first  planter 
and  the  chief  waterer"  "of  the  Reformed  Church  of 


326  JOHN   KNOX, 

Scotia,  with  her  laudable  form  and  rite,"  the  Auld  Kirk, 
the  world-known  Kirk,  "  the  Zion  of  the  North,"  "  the 
City  of  the  Great  King."  The  illustrious  reformer  came 
back  to  his  country  when  the  faith  of  the  gospel  was 
literally  in  the  death-throe ;  he  saved  the  life  of  the 
cause,  he  nursed  it  back  to  health,  he  fostered  it,  he 
watched  over  it,  wrought,  prayed  and  warred  fearlessly 
for  it  till  it  was  planted  God's  vine  in  the  land  and  es- 
tablished for  the  ages  to  come.  That  new  life  Knox 
embodied  in  an  organized  form,  in  a  Church  which  all, 
friends  and  foes  alike,  confess  to  be  most  compact  and 
symmetrical,  most  conservative  of  order  and  reverent 
forms,  yet  a  Church  progressive,  elastic,  self-adapting 
and  complete  in  republican  freedom  and  consonant  with 
popular  demands  and  rights  ;  a  Church  "  whose  laudable 
form  and  rites  "  we  believe  to  be  nearer  than  any  other 
to  the  pattern  seen  upon  the  apostolic  mount,  yet  hon- 
oring all  true  communions  of  believers,  sympathetic 
with  all,  generous  to  all,  unchurching  jiobody  of  the 
Spirit-born  and  the  blood-washed  believers,  saying,  "  Ubi 
Christus,  ubi  Spiritus,  ubi  Veritas,  ibi  Ecclesia  Dei." 

Regarding  this  Reformed  Church  of  Scotland,  the 
foundation  and  the  fostering  of  Knox,  regarding  her 
rise,  her  forms  and  her  ordering,  I  have,  in  late  years, 
somewhat  changed  my  mind  through  larger  reading  and 
maturer  thought.  The  Church  of  the  Covenant  is  not 
a  transplantation  from  Geneva ;  it  is  a  true  Scottish 
stock.  No  doubt  there  are  Genevan  features  ;  perhaps 
several  characteristic  forms,  titles  and  procedures  in 
church-courts.  But  in  the  main  this  Zion  of  the  North 
is  designed  by  a  Scottish  mind  and  built  by  native 
hands.  Its  style  is  of  the  age,  the  architect  and  the 
land,  strong,  solid  and  simple,  perhaps  stern,  but,  we  do 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  327 

not  fear  to  say,  undeniably  scriptural.  We  are  not 
ashamed  of  our  Church,  her  confession  or  her  catechism, 
her  character  or  her  career.  Let  us  very  briefly  review 
her  rise  and  completion ;  we  shall  see  Knox  "  the  light 
of  Scotland,  the  comfort  of  the  kirk"  everywhere  in 
this  "  planting  and  watering  of  the  vine."  And  we 
shall  probably  in  the  end  take  a  somewhat  different 
view  from  Burton,  "  that  Knox  was  no  deviser  of  creeds 
and  organizations ;  he  had  nothing  original  about  him 
but  his  individuality  of  character  and  his  power  over 
his  native  tongue."  When  Knox  began  his  ministry  in 
St.  Andrews,  he  was  a  studious,  matured  man  of  forty 
years  who  had  been  living  amid  the  distinct  memories 
of  an  old,  apostolic  Church,  who  had  been  conversing 
familiarly  with  a  people,  never  giving  their  rulers  the 
unquestioning  obedience  elsewhere  by  subjects  rendered 
to  their  sovereigns,  and  having  the  very  strongest 
native  tendencies  towards  republicanism  and  very  good 
reasons  for  hating  bishops  and  despots, — a  people  whom 
that  poor  pedant  and  bigot,  James  the  Sixth,  understood 
when  he  pithily  put  their  creed  thus  :  "  No  bishop,  no 
king" !  Moreover  Knox  had  been  prayerfully  and 
meditatively  searching  God's  word  during  those  long, 
silent  years,  and  had  drawn  thence  what  all  find  who 
keep  to  it  alone,  what  notoriously  all  the  continental 
churches  have  found,  Lutheran  and  Reformed  alike,  what 
the  oldest  in  Bohemia  and  Saxony,  and  the  youngest  in 
Belgium  and  Spain,  have  manifestly  found, — that  there 
is  neither  priesthood  nor  prelacy  in  the  New  Testament 
Church,  that  the  Supper  is  not  a  sacrifice,  that  the  be- 
lieving band  of  the  spirit-born  and  blood-washed  is  God's 
Church,  that  the  call  of  this  worshipping  company  is  the 
audible  voice  of  the  Lord  summoning  to  and  sanctioning 


328  JOHN    KNOX, 

the  full  work  of  the  pastorate,  that  the  recognition  by 
the  already  existent  ministry  of  that  call,  and  of  the 
gifts  and  graces  justifying  it,  is  true,  valid,  scriptural 
ordination,  that  the  believing  band  with  its  teachers  and 
taught  forms  a  divine  society  having  a  divine  right  to 
the  fullest  liberty  in  working  out,  subject  always  but 
only  to  the  Bible  and  conscience,  upon  its  own  plan  the 
Lord's  will,  that  church-liturgies  and  human  canons, 
while  at  times  very  helpful  and  under  conditions  clearly 
permissible,  are  not  obligatory,  and  that  human  authority 
may  in  all  matters  of  faith  and  worship  be  refused  and 
should  ever  be  resisted  if  contrary  to  conscience  and  the 
Word  of  God. 

John  Knox  had  reached  this  Scottish  Presbyterian- 
ism  before  he  conferred  with  Cranmer  or  had  seen  Cal- 
vin. How  do  we  know  that  such  w^ere  his  principles 
and  practice  ?  By  his  whole  course  and  his  avowed  con- 
victions ;  by  his  acceptance  of  the  call  to  the  ministry 
at  St.  Andrews,  and  by  his  memorable  actions  while  in 
England.  He  was  broad-churchman  enough  to  recog- 
nize everywhere  Christ's  people  as  Christ's  Church,  to 
worship  with  them,  to  preach  and  labor  wherever  God 
gave  him  opportunity ;  but  he  was  Presbyterian,  Scot- 
tish, to  the  backbone,  refusing  to  use  the  liturgy  when 
ordered,  and  declining,  because  prelacy  was  in  his  judg- 
ment contrary  to  God's  word,  the  splendid  see  of  Roch- 
ester when  it  was  pressed  upon  him  by  his  friends 
Cranmer,  Ridley  and  Latimer,  when  he  was  strongly 
urged  by  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  to  accept  it,  and 
besought  to  do  so  by  the  king  whom  he  loved  to  the 
depth  of  his  big  heart,  and  whom  he  ever  lamented. 

Episcopacy  and  Ritual  he  faced  in  England  for  five 
years.     He  was  ever  a  watchful,  reflective  man,  of  a 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  329 

judicial  mind.  During  those  years,  as  we  know  from  his 
foes  Tonstall,  Cox  and  Weston  and  from  his  friends  Lat- 
imer and  Ridley,  Knox  opposed  priesthood  and  prelacy, 
preached  against  all  sacerdotalism  and  sacramentarian- 
ism,  and  conducted  the  worship  of  the  sanctuary  at  Ber- 
wick, Newcastle  and  in  London,  yes  before  the  king,  in 
what  he  considered  a  more  excellent  way  than  the  An- 
glican, a  way  which  the  king  and  the  archbishop  would 
have  finally  adopted  had  Edward  lived  and  Cranmer 
been  successful.  London  was  the  scene  and  Lambeth 
Palace  the  spot  where  Knox  matured  "the  laudable 
form  and  rites  of  the  reformed  Church  of  Scotland." 
Geneva  was  the  scene  of  verification  and  completer  fin- 
ish. Nor  does  this  fact  that  John  Knox,  the  fully-ma- 
tured Scotchman  of  fifty  years,  gained  in  Calvin's  city 
not  the  inspiration  of  his  doctrine  and  discipline,  but 
their  confirmation  and  completion,  unmake  anything  for 
Calvin  :  his  princely  position  and  peculiar  pre-eminence 
are  too  well  assured  to  be  thus  affected.  But  the  historic 
truth  does  make  much  for  the  independence  and  individ- 
uality of  our  manly  and  masterly  reformer. 
.  From  the  pastorate  of  his  Genevan  church,  w'ith  his 
large  experience  of  various  forms  of  church  government, 
with  his  own  prepared  form  of  worship  and  long-held 
convictions  as  to  creed  and  constitution,  and  from  his 
observation  and  approbation  of  the  French  reformed 
Church,  Knox  came  to  found  and  finish  the  Church  of 
Scotland.  Here  too,  as  in  the  stirring  and  summoning 
forth  of  the  Commons,  he  begins  his  work  at  a  singu- 
larly-fitting time.  God's  hand  may  very  clearly  be  seen 
in  the  whole  chain  of  events.  That  "  handful  of  corn  " 
which  the  outlaw  had  five  years  ago   sown  was  now  a 

broad   field   of   waving  grain.     From   castle   Campbell 

22 


330  JOHN    KNOX, 

where  to  the  aged  Argyle  and  his  son  Lorn  Knox  had 
preached  the  gospel  of  grace,  to  Duns,  where,  just  ere 
he  was  forced  to  fly  once  more  for  his  life,  he  had  dis- 
pensed the  sacrament  to  the  men  of  Mearns  and  had 
framed  the  first  covenant,  the  reformed  faith  had  lived 
and  spread ;  and  lairds,  traders,  burghers,  yeomen  and 
peasants  had  kept  their  vow  sacred,  had  prayed  and 
waited  for  the  time  of  their  redemption,  and,  defiant  of 
foes  and  of  death,  had  worked  for  the  quicker  coming  of 
the  hour  when  Knox  might  safely  and  forever  return. 
These  souls  of  faith  and  heroism  formed  "  the  congrega- 
tion ;"  and  their  leaders  were  "  the  lords."  The  lords 
and  the  Congregation,  finding  that  they  had  but  few 
preachers,  had  chosen  readers  and  formed  the  famous 
and  fertile  "  societies,"  the  congregational  prayer-meet- 
ing, the  little  conventicles  where  "the  king's  remem- 
brancers "  ofttimes  gathered,  where  pious  peasants  grew 
heroes,  and  where  in  later  days  of  the  Laudean  perse- 
cution the  Covenanting  martyrs  became  strong  for  the 
stake  and  the  sea,  the  battle  and  the  pistols  of  Graeme. 
This  steadily-enlarging  company  welcomed  the  sturdy 
Presbyterian  reformer.  The  crystalline  matter  was 
ready;  one  touch  of  Knox's  hand  and  it  became  the 
symmetrical  crystal,  solid  and  clear. 

This  notable  event  really,  though  not  officially,  took 
place  in  old  St.  Giles  upon  that  glorious  day  of  national 
rejoicing  and  thanksgiving,  the  19th  of  July,  1560. 
Then,  just  three  days  after  the  departure  of  the  defeated 
French,  and  twelve  after  the  signing  of  the  Edinburgh 
treaty  by  the  fast-dying  queen-mother,  by  which  were 
secured  a  free  country  and  free  parliaments,  free  faith 
and  a  free  Church,  the  Congregation  assembled,  thanked 
God  for  the  marvellous  deliverance,  and  stood  forth  the 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  331 

Church  of  Scotland.  John  Knox  preached  and  prayed 
that  day.  Would  that  time  permitted  to  repeat  his 
solemn  and  sweet  prayer  of  thankfulness  and  joy! 

Upon  the  17th  of  August  assembled  "the  great  par- 
liament," the  fullest,  most  truly  representative  of  the 
people  and  most  memorable  that  Scotland  had  yet 
known.  It  was  this  parliament  which  formally  estab- 
lished the  reformed  faith  and  Presbyterianism,  which 
confirmed  the  acts,  accepted  the  Confession  of  Knox  and 
his  fellow  laborers,  and  appointed  them  still  further  du- 
ties in  organizing  and  ordering  the  Church.  In  a  short 
time  followed  the  first  Book  of  Discipline,  which  was 
submitted  to  the  Council  and  signed  "  by  the  greater 
part  of  the  members,  accepted  by  the  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple and  at  once  carried  into  effect  in  all  its  principal 
regulations."  There  were  the  following  office-bearers  : 
the  minister  or  pastor,  the  doctor  of  divinity  or  teacher, 
like  our  theological  professor,  the  elder  and  the  deacon. 
There  were  two  special  workers,  the  reader,  who  was  just 
our  colporteur,  and  the  superintendent,  who  was  just  an 
itinerating  missionary  invested  with  powers  similar  to  the 
moderator  of  a  synod,  commissioned  to  special  work. 
"Public  worship  was  conducted  according  to  the  Book 
of  Common  Order  " — a  book  which  Knox  had  used  in 
Frankfort,  and  for  his  own  use  had  perfected  in  Geneva. 
In  regard  to  the  Confession  of  Faith  and  the  Book  of 
Discipline,  one  of  the  six  Johns  who  prepared  them. 
Row,  says  in  his  history,  "  The  ministers  took  not  their 
example  from  any  kirk  in  the  world,  no,  not  from  Ge- 
neva ;  but  laying  God's  word  before  them,  made  refor- 
mation thereto."  Organization  became  complete  on  the 
20th  of  December,  1560,  when  at  Edinburgh  the  General 
Assembly  held  its   first  regular  meeting.     Thencefor- 


332  JOHN    KNOX, 

ward  that  name  means  power.  Dodds,  in  his  admirable 
and  interesting  book  on  "  The  Scottish  Covenanters," 
says,  "  In  England  (I  am  referring  to  the  times  subse- 
quent to  the  Reformation)  the  Parliament  was  always 
the  people's  organ  in  their  pursuit  of  constitutional  gov- 
ernment. The  Church,  from  its  birth  a  creature  of  the 
court,  was  either  kept  under  close  tutelage  by  its  august 
parent,  or,  if  ever  chafed  to  show  a  little  anger,  could 
only  afford  a  feeble  and  second-rate  opposition.  Hence 
the  ideas  and  language  of  the  English  constitutionalists 
were  in  the  main  political ;  and  it  was  only  by  accident 
if  religious  influences  or  ecclesiastical  dogmas  mingled 
in  the  unrest.  In  Scotland  the  reverse  was  the  case. 
The  Parliament,  from  radical  defects  in  its  structure, 
was  either  the  mere  echo  of  the  court  or  the  instrument 
of  some  dominant  faction  of  barons.  But  from  the  days 
of  the  Reformation,  the  kirk — the  world-renowned  kirk 
— was  the  true  organ  of  the  Scottish  people.  It  com- 
bined within  itself  all  the  functions,  all  the  energies — 
and  can  it  be  wondered  at  if  sometimes  also  it  fell  into 
the  excesses — of  those  three  great  organs  of  popular 
opinion.  Parliament,  the  press  and  public  meetings. 
Through  it  was  it  that  the  Scottish  masses  uttered  all 
their  complaints,  demands,  threats,  resolves.  By  the 
kirk  they  were  guided  and  inspired  in  all  their  public 
movements.  It  was  their  rendezvous  in  the  time  of 
alarm  and  commotion;  their  asylum  in  the  hour  of 
danger;  the  fortress  from  which  they  defied  the  fiery 
darts  of  the  oppressor.  It  was  more.  It  was  more  than 
any  parliament  or  any  mere  earthly  association  can  be 
to  the  heart  and  soul  of  man — of  man  a  spiritual  being  and 
acted  upon  the  most  powerfully  by  spiritual  faith,  spirit- 
ual impulses  and  spiritual  institutions.     The  kirk  was 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  333 

the  Mount  Zion  of  the  land, '  beautiful  for  situation,  the 
joy  of  the  whole  earth,'  '  the  city  of  the  great  King.' 
There  Jesus  Christ  executed  his  office  as  a  king ;  guaran- 
teed its  purity  and  final  triumphs ;  and  woe  to  him  who 
should  lay  upon  it  unhallowed  hands, — who  should  seek 
to  wear  its  crown  or  presume  to  dictate  its  laws  or  or- 
dinances !  It  was  sacred,  imperishable,  invincible,  and 
laughed  to  scorn  alike  the  rage  of  tyrants,  the  plots  of 
hierarchies  and  the  gates  of  hell  itself!  Hence  the 
kirk  of  Scotland  was  always  but  the  people  of  Scotland 
in  a  different  embodied  form ;  and  although  in  conse- 
quence of  this  peculiarity,  which  distinguishes  the  his- 
tory of  Scotland  more  than  that  of  any  other  country 
I  know  of,  the  language  and  the  dogmas  of  the  period 
may  be  strongly  ecclesiastical  and  tinged  with  some 
theocratic  pretensions  foreign  and  perhaps  offensive  to 
modern  conception,  yet  the  principles  at  stake  and  the 
objects  which  were  really  struggled  for  were  the  same 
as  in  all  ages,  nations  and  circumstances  have  animated 
the  true  and  the  free  in  struggling  against  their  oppress- 
ors— freedom  of  thought,  freedom  of  worship,  freedom 
of  religious  and  social  assemblies,  judgment  by  law,  and 
law  the  expression  of  the  national  will.  I  have  to 
premise  that  much  of  this  struggle  will  seem  to  turn 
upon  ecclesiastical  questions  ;  and  oftentimes,  in  con- 
sequence, philosophers  and  men  of  literature  have 
been  repelled  from  the  study  of  this  particular  period 
of  Scottish  history,  or  have  only  treated  it  as  a  foil 
to  set  off  their  own  brilliant  wit  and  refined  contempt 
for  priestcraft  and  fanaticism.  They  imagine  that  it 
can  involve  nothing  of  universal  human  interest ;  that 
it  was  but  another  amongst  the  numberless  squabbles 
of  rival  priesthoods ;  that  it  was  a  mere  running  fire  of 


334  JOHN    KNOX, 

Presbyterio-prelatic  controversies,  in  which  the  welfare 
of  the  nation  had  no  manner  of  concern. 

"  But  this  is  an  entire  mistake.  It  often  happens,  as 
every  one  knows  who  is  versant  with  the  minuter  de- 
tails of  history,  that  in  revolutions  of  vast  magnitude 
and  far-reaching  consequence,  the  questions,  the  discus- 
sions, the  public  documents  of  the  period,  shall  seem  to 
have  very  little  significance  indeed  ;  they  are  dry  bones 
in  which  no  life  appears.  But  when  vivified  by  reflec- 
tion, by  patient  thought,  and  by  an  imagination  and 
sympathy  which  can  translate  the  dead-looking  forms  of 
the  past  into  the  strong,  warm  feelings  of  the  present, 
one  gradually  awakens  to  the  universality  and  grandeur 
and  everlasting  human  interest  of  the  principles  which 
those  old  bygone  formulae  half  conceal  from  observa- 
tion. Many  a  superficial  reader,  if  not  warned  before- 
hand, would  glance  over  the  clauses  of  Magna  Charta 
or  the  Ninety-five  Theses  posted  by  Luther  on  the 
gates  of  the  castle-church  of  Wittenberg,  and  never 
perceive  that  in  the  former  lay  imbedded  the  seeds  of 
constitutional  government;  that  in  the  latter  was  the 
fountain  from  which  the  Protestant  Reformation  issued 
forth.  So  in  the  struggles  of  the  Scottish  Covenanters. 
Underneath  much  that  is  strange  in  their  dialect,  local 
in  their  views,  polemical  in  their  dogmas,  we  shall  trace, 
if  we  search  aright,  a  substratum  of  principles  in  which 
all  men  and  all  generations  are  vitally  interested.  But 
the  want  is,  to  lift  up  the  veil  under  which  the  men 
themselves  are  hidden — to  wipe  the  dust  from  their 
brows  and  show  them  with  their  faces  to  the  sun,  that 
you  may  see  they  are  not  men  to  be  forgotten  and  de- 
spised as  poor  silly  fanatics,  but  men  of  every  species 
of  talent,  of  every  variety  of  character, — faithful  wit- 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  335 

nesses  for  principles  yet  sacred  to  yourselves, — heroes 
whom,  if  you  cannot  always  agree  with,  you  cannot  Ml 
to  admire, — patriots  who  in  life  and  in  death  were  ani- 
mated with  the  noblest  zeal  to  make  Britain  a  free,  a 
pure,  a  brave,  a  religious  nation,  and  always  the  first 
Protestant  power  in  Europe." 

Knox  planned  the  school  system  of  England.  Yet 
one  great  task  more  and  Scotland  is  made.  John 
Knox  and  his  chief  friends  in  the  council  and  associates 
in  the  church  and  the  reformation-work  were  all  lovers 
of  learning.  Row  was  one  of  the  most  cultivated  men 
of  his  day.  His  home  was  a  truly  literary  circle.  The 
pictures  of  it  sketched  for  us  by  graphic  writers,  who 
were  personally  familiar  with  the  far-travelled  chaplain 
and  the  scholarly  ways  of  his  household,  are  very  sur- 
prising and  singularly  attractive.  Knox  was  himself, 
through  the  bitter  persecutions  of  his  many  foes  that 
made  him  an  exile  in  France  and  Switzerland  and  a 
pastor  in  Calvin's  city,  a  man  of  large  continental  expe- 
rience, the  companion  of  learned  men  in  London  and  in 
Geneva,  and  was  a  student  all  his  days.  He  had  him- 
self known  the  signal  advantage  to  gifted  and  aspiring 
lads  of  the  grammar-school ;  and  he  had  eagerly  availed 
himself  of  all  the  instruction  it  could  yield  to  the  ardent 
youth  of  Haddington.  And  now  this  old  Haddington 
schoolboy,  the  Glasgow  disciple  of  Major,  the  able  dia- 
lectician, the  patient  student  of  Langniddrie,  the  friend 
of  Cranmer  and  Ridley,  of  Calvin  and  Beza,  is  practi- 
cally the  master  of  Scotland,  the  leader  of  the  kirk,  and 
thus  the  guide,  yes  and  the  trusted  guide,  of  the  people 
of  Scotland  ;  he  will  not  have  the  schools  for  the  people 
and  the  colleges  of  the  land  forgotten.  As  may  be  seen 
from  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  First  Book  of  Disci- 


336  JOHN    KNOX, 

pline,  the  far-sighted  and  liberal  reformer  aimed  at 
having  a  true  system  of  national  education  established 
and  securely  provided  for ;  beside  each  parish  church 
should  stand  the  school  where  all  the  youth  of  the  dis- 
trict should  receive  secular  and  religious  instruction, 
and  where  promising  scholars  might  be  prepared  for 
college.  Then  there  were  further  embraced  in  the  pol- 
itic plan  local  colleges,  which  should  occupy  the  inter- 
mediate but  most  important  place  between  the  school 
and  the  three  fully-equipped  universities.  These  uni- 
versities were  to  be  enlarged  till  they  should  be  the 
equals  and  rivals  of  Paris,  Leipsic  and  Prague  in  their 
palmiest  days.  The  state  should  provide  funds  for  the 
elementary  teaching  and  collegiate  training  of  the  poor ; 
and  the  noble  and  wealthy  be  compelled  to  educate  their 
children  in  a  manner  and  to  a  degree  worthy  of  their 
station  and  their  means.  To  a  very  considerable  extent 
this  scheme  was  carried  out ;  Scotland  soon  felt  the  im- 
pulse, and  her  sons  were  soon  known  as  teachers  and 
leaders  in  the  continental  schools.  And  if  these  wise 
plans,  and  even  more  splendid  projects,  were  not  then 
to  their  utmost  realized,  Knox  is  not  to  be  blamed,  but 
rather  pitied ;  because,  though  exerting  all  his  persua- 
sions, moving  the  assembly  and  carrying  the  people 
with  him,  he  was  thwarted  by  cunning  Maitland  and 
defeated  by  the  base  selfishness  and  unrighteousness  of 
the  great  nobles,  who,  caring  little  for  education  and 
less  for  religion,  but  much  for  wealth,  had  by  strong 
hand  seized  swiftly  and  were  now  with  watchful  jealousy 
guarding  the  appropriated  church-lands  and  the  richest 
livings  in  Scotland,  Still  very  much  was  done.  It  is 
this  schoolwork  of  Knox  and  his  far-seeing  plans  which 
have  stirred  the  righteous  enthusiasm  of  a  great  Scotch- 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  337 

man,  himself  made  possible  only  by  Knox,  his  labors 
and  the  peasantry  he  educated,  Thomas  Carlyle ;  who 
in  his  essay  on  Sir  Walter  Scott  thus  bursts  forth  : — 
"  Honor  to  all  the  true  and  the  brave  ;  everlasting  honor 
to  brave  old  Knox,  one  of  the  truest  of  the  true  !  That 
in  the  moment  when  he  and  his  amid  cruel  trials,  in 
convulsions  and  confusion,  were  still  struggling  for  life, 
he  sent  the  schoolmaster  forth  into  all  corners,  and  said, 
'  Let  the  people  be  taught ;'  this  was  but  one,  and  indeed 
an  inevitable  and  comparatively  inconsiderable,  item  in 
his  great  message  to  men.  His  message  in  its  true  com- 
pass was,  '■  Let  men  know  that  they  are  men,  created  by 
God,  responsible  to  Grod,  who  work  in  any  meanest  mo- 
ment of  time  what  will  last  through  eternity.'  This 
great  message  Knox  did  deliver  with  a  man's  voice  and 
strength,  and  found  a  people  to  believe  him.  The 
Scotch  national  character  originates  in  many  circum- 
stances ;  first  of  all  in  the  Saxon  stuff  there  was  to 
work  on ;  but  next,  and  beyond  all  else  except  that, 
in  the  Presbyterian  gospel  of  John  Knox !" 

Yes,  Scotland  was  made  by  Knox  and  his  gospel. 
More  splendid  monument  never  had  child  of  earth ! 

He  was  now  the  very  heart  of  the  new  country,  the 
saved  land,  reformed  Scotland.  Not  nominally,  yet 
really  through  his  work  and  power,  through  his  friend- 
ship and  his  commanding  influence  with  the  regent,  and 
his  unchallengeable  but  willingly-conceded  place  in  the 
Church,  he  was  the  ruler  of  the  land.  His  life  was 
now  most  laborious ;  he  was  preacher  in  St.  Giles, 
parish  minister  of  Edinburgh,  incessant  controversialist 
with  the  papists,  correspondent  of  Cecil  and  of  many 
friends  on  the  continent,  fosterer  and  guide  of  the  young 
Church,  chief  counsellor  and  very  right  hand  of  Murray 


338  JOHN    KNOX, 

and  the  Lords.  And  yet  it  was  a  pleasant  life.  His 
devoted  and  beloved  wife  and  his  boys  are  once  more 
with  him ;  his  friends,  loved  and  loving,  about  him ; 
and  he,  ever  glad  to  see  them,  spreads  his  board  for 
them ;  merry  and  full  of  humor,  he  laughs  heartily  in 
their  midst,  telling  his  dry  Scotch  jokes  and  his  graphic 
tales,  and  for  better  cheer  orders  up  from  the  cellar 
some  of  his  old  Burgundy.  Neither  morose  nor  austere, 
Knox  at  home  is  the  loving  father  and  the  generous 
host. 

Right  truly,  therefore,  does  Carlisle  say :  "  This 
Knox  has  a  vein  of  drollery  in  him,  which  I  like  much 
in  combination  with  his  other  qualities.  He  has  a  true 
eye  for  the  ridiculous.  His  History  with  its  rough 
earnestness  is  commonly  enlivened  with  this.  When 
the  two  prelates,  entering  Glasgow  Cathedral,  quarrel 
about  precedence,  march  rapidly  up,  take  to  hustling 
one  another,  twitching  one  another's  rochets,  and  at  last 
flourishing  their  crosiers  like  quarter-staves,  it  is  a 
quaint  sight  for  him  every  way  !  Not  mockery,  scorn, 
bitterness  alone ;  though  there  is  enough  of  that  too. 
But  a  true,  loving,  illuminating  laugh  mounts  up  over 
the  earnest  visage ;  not  a  loud  laugh,  you  would  say  a 
laugh  in  the  eyes  most  of  all.  An  honest-hearted, 
brotherly  man ;  brother  to  the  high,  brother  also  to  the 
low,  sincere  in  his  sympathy  with  both." 

But  just  as  Knox  stood  on  the  highlands  of  victory 
crowned  with  success,  honored  of  the  people  and  blessed 
of  God,  just  as  he  was  beginning  to  taste  the  joy  of  that 
stainless  and  splendid  conquest  won  by  his  freemen  of  the 
faith,  and  just  as  he  was  realizing  once  again  the  sweet- 
ness of  quiet  home-life,  the  heavy  blow  fell  upon  him. 
Down  from  the  height  of  his  triumph  and  out  of  the 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  339 

day  of  gladness  the  strong  man  is  suddenly  hurried 
into  the  valley  of  death,  and  sits  alone  in  the  black 
night  of  a  speechless  sorrow.  John  Knox  sits  beside 
his  dead  wife.  Ah,  ye  frivolous  glow-worms  of  fashion, 
ye  foolish  devotees  of  the  debauched,  doomed  Stuarts, 
ye  fierce  haters  of  the  stubborn  Presbyterianism  of 
Knox  and  his  kirk,  ye  call  this  man  hard,  cold,  insens- 
ible, unsympathetic !  Have  ye  followed  the  true  ro- 
mance, the  sweet  tenderness,  of  the  courtship  of  John 
Knox  and  of  Margery  Bowes,  whom  Calvin  calls  "  sua- 
vissima,"  "  most  sweet  wife  "?  do  you  know  aught  of 
the  noble  girl's  devotion  to  her  hero-lover  beneath  her 
father's  frown  and  in  spite  of  the  bitter,  persistent  op- 
position of  papistical  relatives  ?  have  ye  read  how  she 
bravely  wedded  the  outlaw  just  when  hunted  forth  by 
Mary's  bigot  bands  ?  have  ye  followed  their  hairbreadth 
escapes  ?  have  ye  looked  into  their  happy  home  in  Ge- 
neva where  Calvin  often  rested  and  Beza  and  the  noble 
reforming  band  gathered  round  her  "  like  to  whom  few 
are  found  "?  have  ye  beheld  the  holy  household,  parents 
and  children,  reunited  and  rejoicing  in  their  little  home 
at  the  Netherbow  Port  ?  Nay,  I  trow  not !  How  many 
have  been  moved  by  the  lying  tales  of  Mary  Stuart, 
and  the  silly  romance  of  that  wretched  creature  the 
Pretender,  and  Flora  Macdonald  ;  and  nothing  is  known 
of  the  stirring  romance  and  the  sad  tragedy  of  a  noble 
pair  and  a  pure  home !  Oh,  what  a  contrast  to  Mary 
Stuart  and  her  lovers  !  to  Kirk-a-field  and  Dunbar  !  As 
in  the  soon-fading  light  of  a  winter  day  I  watch  this 
Greatheart  of  Scotland,  now  broken  in  health  and  sorer 
broken  in  his  heart,  bending  over  one  who  had  entered 
so  truly  and  fully  into  all  his  hopes,  his  efforts,  danger 
and  victory,  in  a  grief  that  dried  up  tears,  and  as  I  fol- 


340  JOHN    KNOX, 

low  the  current  of  his  thoughts  thus  alone  with  his  dead 
and  his  God,  and  as  I  see  him  seat  upon  his  knee  his 
"  puir  mitherless  bairns,"  and  lift  his  eyes  of  piteous 
appeal  to  God,  methinks  I  could  easily  write  a  tale  of 
John  Knox  and  "  the  desire  of  his  eyes  "  that  would 
move  your  deeper  and  finer  feelings  !  He  is  no  hard, 
unloving  man,  but  a  tenderly-sympathetic  hero.  But 
draw  the  curtain ;  leave  him  with  his  true  wife  and  his 
God ;  he  is  learning  lessons  soon  to  be  needed ;  his 
Father  is  imparting  grace  and  strength  soon  to  be  exer- 
cised and  strained  to  the  very  uttermost,  in  the  last 
great  battle  of  Knox  for  Scottish  faith  and  freedom. 
Like  Ezekiel,  Knox  passed  from  his  wife's  grave  to 
God's  hard  prophet- work. 

"  It  was  a  time 
Of  tumult  and  reproach,  and  God,  who  clothed 
My  soul  with  thunders,  made  me  utter  them 
To  all  the  people,  whether  they  would  hear 
Or  would  forbear.     So  went  I  on  my  way 
And  spake  unto  the  people,  for  the  hand 
Of  God  was  strong  upon  me.     In  my  heart 
The  arrow  quivered,  for  the  Archer  dread 
Had  driven  home  his  bolt.     Yet  I  held  my  soul 
Fi'om  mourning,  as  a  strong  man  holdeth  back 
His  steed  upon  the  sudden  brink  of  some 
Wild  dark  abyss.     There  on  the  brink  I  reined 
My  startled  soul.     This  is  no  day  to  fail 
Nor  be  discouraged.     In  the  work  of  God 
No  man  may  turn  or  falter,  when  God 
Ilath  need  of  him." 

The  time  of  need  has  come.  The  land  is,  without 
knowing  it,  upon  the  very  brink  of  a  "  wild  dark  abyss." 
The  great  storm  is  gathering  fast,  though  the  sky  is 
clear  and  smiles.  It  is  time  for  the  skilled  and  weath- 
erbeaten  helmsman,  aged  but  still  firm-handed,  stout- 
hearted and  God-trusting,  to  take  his  old  post.     John 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  341 

Knox  neither  "  turns  nor  falters  "  in  the  hour  God  has 
need  of  him.  Mary  Stuart  is  in  Scotland.  John  Knox 
steps  out  to  his  last  work,  his  hardest  work,  and  his 
crowning  victory. 

V. — The  Master-Spirit  in  Britain's  Wild  Crisis. 

Mary  Stuart,  the  widow  of  Francis  the  Second,  sailed 
from  France  on  the  14th  of  August,  1561,  and  five  days 
after  landed  in  Scotland.  The  abyss  begins  to  yawn. 
The  crisis-moment  for  Scotch  and  English  faith  and 
freedom  strikes.  The  work  of  years  is  in  peril.  En- 
vious eyes  are  upon  Elizabeth's  crown.  The  mine  is 
started.  Yes,  Protestantism  is  in  danger.  The  storm 
that  shall  beat  for  years  and  shall  leave  lamentable 
wrecks  behind  now  begins.  And  all  with  the  coming 
of  a  young  queen  not  twenty  years  of  age.  Yes  ;  but  a 
woman  this  of  terrific  power  whom  only  one  man  truly 
measured  and  completely  mastered.  Mary  is  in  Leith  ; 
and  Knox  enters  upon  that  perilous  and  momentous 
field  where  he  revealed  himself  the  magnificent  master 
in  what  Froude  calls  "  the  wild  crisis  "  of  Britain,  where 
under  God  he  won  and  secured  the  grandest  and  most 
far-reaching  triumph  of  his  life  ;  and  yet  this  is  the 
very  field  where  he  has  been  most  shamefully  misrep- 
resented and  scandalously  maligned.  Too  often  the 
world's  best  workers  have  been  the  belied  of  the  cen- 
turies. That  such  men  as  Savonarola  and  Cromwell 
and  John  Knox  should  "  be  compelled  to  fight  against 
shadows  and  Howlettes  that  dare  not  abide  the  light  is 
a  thing  most  unreasonable  "  and  intolerable  ! 

In  but  few  words  of  Carlyle  does  noble  anger  speak  out 
more  justifiably  than  in  his  outburst  against  the  deliber- 
ate and  purposeful  lies  of  pro-papists  and  hangers-on  of 


342  JOHN   KNOX, 

royalty  and  nobility :  "  It  seems  to  me  hard  measure 
that  this  Scottish  man,  now  after  three  hundred  years, 
should  have  to  plead  like  a  culprit  before  the  world,  in- 
trinsically for  having  been,  in  such  a  way  as  it  were 
then  possible  to  be,  the  bravest  of  all  Scotchmen ! 
Had  he  been  a  poor  Half-and-half  he  could  have 
crouched  into  the  corner  like  so  many  others ;  Scotland 
had  not  been  delivered ;  and  Knox  had  been  without 
blame  !  He  is  the  one  Scotchman  to  whom  of  all  others 
his  country  and  the  world  owe  a  debt.  He  has  to  plead 
that  Scotland  would  forgive  him  for  having  been  worth 
to  it  any  million  'unblamable'  Scotchmen  that  need  no 
forgiveness  !  He  bared  his  breast  to  the  battle,  had  to 
row  in  French  galleys,  wander  forlorn  in  exile,  in  clouds 
and  storms,  was  censured,  shot  at  through  his  windows, 
had  a  right  sore  fighting  life  ;  if  this  world  were  his  place 
of  recompense,  he  had  made  but  a  bad  venture  of  it.  I 
cannot  apologize  for  Knox.  To  him  it  is  very  indiffer- 
ent these  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  or  more  what  men 
say  of  him.  But  we,  having  got  above  all  those  details 
of  his  battle,  and  living  now  in  clearness  on  the  fruits 
of  his  victory, — we  for  our  own  sakes  ought  to  look 
through  the  rumors  and  controversies  enveloping  the 
man  into  the  man  himself" 

"  Rest  in  the  Lord,"  says  the  old  Hebrew  watcher  of 
life  and  student  of  God's  way,  in  that  sublime  thirty- 
seventh  Psalm,  "  and  wait  patiently  for  him.  And  he 
shall  bring  forth  thy  righteousness  as  the  light,  and  thy 
judgment  as  the  noonday."  And  the  light  has  come  for 
Knox ;  in  spite  of  papists  and  ritualists,  absolutists  and 
novelists,  for  him  it  is  noonday  !  At  last  men,  who  love 
simple  facts  rather  than  smooth  falsehoods,  are  coming 
to  recognize  what  the  splendid  peasantry  of  Scotland 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  343 

ever  held  sacred  as  a  creed,  the  more  than  royal  grand- 
eur of  Knox,  his  lonely  greatness  in  the  wild  crisis  of 
the  land. 

The  romance  of  his  ever-changing  life  culminates  in 
this  stirring,  sorrowful,  fate-fraught  decade.  Most  dra- 
matic incidents  and  episodes  ever  and  anon  break  up  the 
steady,  sober  march  of  simple,  stern-faced  facts.  Jets 
of  merrirpent,  bursts  of  hearty,  bluff  humor,  spurts  of 
fun  rising  out  of  keenest  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  up- 
rushes  of  a  pathetic  irony,  start  surprisingly  out  of  the 
hard  fields  of  cold  history  like  the  boiling  waters  from 
the  frost-bound  Icelandic  soil.  The  most  weird  tales, 
darksome  tragedies  and  hellish  murders  multiply.  Ver- 
ily it  was  the  fitting  time  for  the  old  playwrights  to  arise 
in,  and  in  which  the  master-spirit  of  them  all  should 
be  born  !  Truly  it  was  an  "  extraordinary  age."  And 
one  of  its  chiefest  marvels — its  women.  The  period  is 
filled  with  wonderful  women,  moves  around  them,  is 
largely  moulded  by  them.  Now  it  is  Jeanne  d'Albret,now 
Mary  of  Lorraine,  now  Mary  of  Tudor,  again  Catherine 
de  Medici,  and  again  Elizabeth  of  Tilbury,  that  fixes 
your  attention  as  the  Juno  of  the  hour.  But  above  and 
beyond  all  is  one,  at  once  the  ruin-spreading  Venus  and 
the  plotting,  cool-brained  Minerva  of  the  hour  ;  at  once 
the  strongest  and  the  weakest,  the  most  winsome  and 
most  wicked,  the  most  ill-starred  and  yet  often  nighest 
to  supreme  victory,  the  most  miserable  yet  mischievous, 
the  most  dignified  yet  degraded  and  diabolic  of  them 
all.  Yes !  in  the  very  centre  she  stands,  Mary  Stuart, 
the  fair  and  foul,  the  first  hope  of  the  Catholic  league, 
Rome's  potent  partisan,  Elizabeth's  chief  enemy,  Scot- 
land's dark  fate,  the  Kirk's  terrible  Jezebel,  sowing  the 
wind,  reaping  the  whirlwind.      And  over  against  her 


344  JOHN    KNOX, 

one  old,  diseased,  poor  man ;  and  yet  the  only  man 
whom  Mary  Stuart,  plotting  in  France  her  far-sighted, 
able  and  deadly  schemes,  really  feared,  the  only  man 
whom  she  never  blinded,  the  only  man  who  in  Scotland 
told  her  truth  and  foiled  her  in  the  full  sweep  of  her 
power, — John  Knox,  the  simple,  unselfish  seeker  of 
truth  and  righteousness,  whose  eye  was  single  and  whose 
soul  was  full  of  light.  He  stood  safe  and  supreme 
facing  this  real  historic  Vivien.  In  this  hour  of  tempta- 
tion and  fall  Knox  was  the  Ithuriel  of  the  scene. 

There  are  two  points  upon  which  Knox  has  been  very 
widely  censured,  and  with  somewhat  merciless  severity, 
and  for  which  those  who  hate  his  politics  and  his  creed 
and  his  Church  would  fain  have  him  condemned  to 
deepest  and  lasting  disgrace.  These  are  his  alleged 
vandalism  in  the  demolition  of  the  old  Scottish  piles, 
and  his  alleged  brutalism  in  his  treatment  of  Mary. 
Falsehoods  are  they  both  ;  arrant  falsehoods  ;  only  and 
always  falsehoods.  Disproofs  abound.  The  truth  may 
easily  be  reached.  Henceforth  ye  who  have  been 
blessed  through  Knox,  nail  them  both  in  the  most  open 
ways  of  men  as  lies.  The  first  allegation  has  no  foun- 
dation in  fact ;  the  second  is  a  deliberate  suppression 
of  some  important,  and  a  wicked  perversion  of  other, 
facts. 

As  to  the  destruction  of  the  old  houses,  abbeys  and 
cathedrals — that  vandalism  was  chiefly  the  act  of  Henry 
the  Eighth,  of  Hertford,  Somerset  and  the  plundering 
Scotch  nobles.  And  in  the  case  of  the  very  few  monas- 
teries and  churches  dismantled  or  destroyed  during  the 
frenzy  of  the  popular  outbreak,  John  Knox  was  not 
present  at  one  of  them,  never  incited  to  one  such  act, 
never  approved  of  these  wild  deeds  of  a  turbulent  land. 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  345 

and  in  terms  condemned  them  as  the  lawless  work  "  of 
the  rascal  multitude."  The  fever  of  iconoclasm  showed 
itself  first  at  Perth.  Knox  had  left  the  church  some 
time  before  the  outbreak  took  place.  It  was  a  Romish 
priest  who  really  caused  the  riot  and  is  wholly  respons- 
ible for  the  results.  This  defiant  man  proceeded  with 
the  most  cool  and  daring  but  foolish  and  irritating 
deliberation,  right  in  the  face  of  the  vast  congregation 
now  won  to  the  reformed  faith,  and  with  their  hearts 
fresh-fired  by  the  trumpet  tones  of  Knox,  to  celebrate 
mass  with  unusual  pomp  and  display.  A  foolish,  yes 
if  you  will  a  wicked,  lad  made  an  impertinent  remark. 
Upon  that  boy  rushed  the  furious  priest  from  the  altar 
and  beat  him  severely.  The  boy  threw  a  stone,  the 
stone  struck  an  image ;  in  a  sudden  frenzy  the  people 
rose,  destroyed  the  altar  and  the  images.  They  touched 
nothing  more.  The  time  was  one  of  war.  The  air  was 
electric.  The  plots  and  the  lies  and  the  troops  of  Mary 
of  Lorraine  had  made  the  country  furious.  The  town- 
mob  gathered  and  rushed  to  the  monasteries.  Where 
was  now  John  Knox  ?  At  the  provost's  house,  gathering 
the  magistrates  and  summoning  the  town  band  !  Forth 
he  led  them  and  placed  the  guard  round  the  houses  of 
the  monks,  and  himself  watched  for  their  protection 
during  the  entire  night  at  the  post  of  most  imminent 
danger.  In  the  morning  all  seemed  quiet.  Knox  and 
his  guard  departed.  No  sooner  were  they  gone  than 
the* mob  regathered.  There  were  husbands,  fathers 
and  brothers  who  had  sworn  to  cleanse  the  town,  and 
they  did  thorough  work.  The  flame  spread,  as  another 
flame  somewhat  similar,  not  unnatural,  not  all  unright- 
eous, spread  in  France  at  a  later  day;  and  at  Lindores, 
Scone,  Stirling   and  Cupar  the  demolition   proceeded. 

23 


346  JOHN    KNOX, 

At  St.  Andrews  the  destruction  was  the  deliberate  deed 
of  authority ;  the  rulers  did  that  work.  And  they 
were  right.  This  castle  had  been  made  by  the  Beatouns 
a  tyrant's  keep,  and  the  cathedral  a  den  of  plotters  and 
a  garrison  to  overawe  the  people.  The  time  had  more 
than  come  to  end  that  reign  of  terror  and  of  crime. 
Where  is  Knox's  coarse  vandalism  to  be  found  ?  No 
wonder  Baillie,  in  his  indignant  truthfulness,  proclaimed 
Bishop  Maxwell  a  liar  in  these  plain  words :  "  What  you 
speak  of  Mr.  Knox  preaching  for  the  pulling  down  of 
churches  is  like  the  rest  of  your  lies." 

True,  when  pressed  once  regarding  these  furious  deeds 
of  frenzied  men,  he  did  in  his  hearty,  Latimer-like  humor 
say,  "Pull  down  the  rookeries  and  the  birds'll  no  re- 
turn." And  so  would  you  have  said  if  you  had  been 
in  the  heat  of  that  life-and-death  struggle,  if  you  had 
had  the  "foul  birds"  underneath  your  eaves,  perhaps  in 
your  own  home,  if  you  had  had  soul  enough  to  see  and 
to  feel  the  meaning  of  that  battle,  and  had  been  a  Chris- 
tian lover  of  men  instead  of  a  heathen  worshipper  of 
stones.  Pshaw  !  sirs,  it  is  high  time  to  be  wholly  done 
with  this  paltry  drivelling  about  abbeys  and  monasteries  ! 
Better  a  clean  ruin  than  a  foul  house  !  What  are  stones 
to  souls  ?  What  are  even  finished  cathedrals  and  their 
Gothic  work  in  an  age  of  crisis  to  the  fate-filled  centu- 
ries thence  born  and  the  human  wants  then  to  be  met  ? 
You  can  rebuild  the  minsters ;  you  cannot  recall  the 
men  of  the  crisis,  nor  remake  the  moments  big  with. the 
destinies  of  earth. 

Hear  what  a  lawyer,  Lord  Moncrieft',  says  regarding 
this  false  charge  of  vandalism  :  "  Much  has  been  bitterly 
said — and  it  is  one  of  the  vulgar  topics  of  reproach 
against  the  memory  of  Knox — about  the  destruction  o 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  347 

the  ecclesiastical  houses  at  the  Reformation.  But  the 
truth  is  that  Knox  is  very  little  responsible  for  this 
offence,  if  it  be  one.  He  did  what  he  could  to  restrain 
the  populace  at  the  first  outbreak.  In  fact,  the  crown 
and  the  landed  proprietors  of  Scotland  who  swallowed 
up  the  revenues  out  of  which  alone  these  buildings 
could  have  been  supported  are  quite  as  chargeable  with 
the  loss  of  the  architectural  remains.  There  are  not 
wanting  other  instances  of  a  similar  destruction  in  edi- 
fices not  ecclesiastical  and  by  hands  not  reforming.  The 
royal  palace  of  Dunfermline  was  entire  or  nearly  so  in 
1G90.  Now,  scarce  a  vestige  of  it  remains.  That  of 
Linlithgow  was  in  perfect  preservation  in  1745.  It  is 
now  only  a  splendid  ruin.  More  than  one  beautiful 
abbey  has  been  forced  to  part  with  every  carved  stone 
it  possessed  to  build  the  fences  in  the  adjoining  fields. 
The  result  of  the  confiscation  of  the  church  lands  and 
the  payment  of  a  stipend  only  to  the  parish  minister" — 
the  work  of  Mary's  friends  and  supporters  in  direct  op- 
position to  Knox — "  left  no  fund  whatever  to  preserve 
these  buildings  from  decay.  But  had  it  been  otherwise, 
what  then  ?  In  those  '  dolorous  and  dangerous  days,'  as 
Knox  termed  them,  it  was  no  time  to  dispute  on  the 
carving  of  a  doorway  or  the  beauty  of  a  transept.  We 
may  lament  for  the  sake  of  art  that  so  much  is  lost ;  but 
if  we  bought  our  liberties  at  no  higher  price,  they  were 
very  cheaply  purchased." 

Hear  what  Professor  Veitch  says  in  his  "  Border  His- 
tory and  Poetry  ":  "  These  grand  ruins  are  now  very 
much  as  Hertford  left  them.  And  we  should  be  spared 
for  the  future  all  ignorant  talk  about  the  reformers  and 
Cromwell  having  been  the  malefactors.  They  were 
saved  the  work,  if  they  had  had  the  will.     It  was  done 


348  JOHN    KNOX, 

five  years  before  the  Reformation,  and  fifty-four  years 
before  Cromwell  was  born." 

"  The  ravaged  abbey  rung  the  funeral  knell, 
When  fierce  Latoun  and  savage  Evers  fell ; 
Fair  bloomed  the  laurel  wreath  by  Douglas  placed 
Above  the  sacred  tombs  by  war  defaced." 

Hear  what  Principal  Tulloch — no  excessive  eulogist 
of  the  reformers,  as  Cunningham  showed — has  said  in 
his  "  Leaders  of  the  Reformation":  "The  explanation 
of  this  iconoclasm,  and  so  far  the  defence  of  it  as  a 
mere  historical  adjunct  of  the  Reformation,  is  its  very 
irrationality.  Who  were  to  blame  for  such  a  state  of 
irrational  and  violent  feeling  among  the  people  ?  Sure- 
ly not  Knox.  He  can  in  no  way  be  held  responsible 
for  the  existence  and  outbreak  of  this  spirit.  In  point 
of  fact,  the  blame  of  this,  if  it  lies  anywhere  save 
with  the  general  barbarism  of  the  people,  must  lie 
with  the  very  system  against  which  it  was  directed. 
It  was  this  system  which,  after  centuries  of  unlimited 
rule,  had  left  a  people  so  untrained  in  social  instinct, 
so  coarse  and  undisciplined  in  moral  feeling.  This 
was  all  that  its  elaborate  training  and  service,  its  con- 
ventional beneficence  and  education,  had  come  to.  It 
had  inspired  the  people  so  little  with  any  spirit  of  order 
or  respect  even  to  the  usages  of  worship  that  when  for 
the  first  time  they  heard  of  a  living  God  and  Saviour, 
and  a  divine  righteousness  and  truth  in  the  world,  they 
could  do  nothing  but  rise  up  against  the  churches  and 
demolish  them.  If  this  be  not  one  of  the  worst  condem- 
nations of  the  old  Catholicism  of  Scotland,  condemna- 
tion certainly  ceases  to  have  any  meaning.  It  is  hard, 
indeed,  to  blame  the  Reformation  for  an  odious  inherit- 
ance of  social  disorder  transmitted  to  it  by  the  corrupt 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  349 

system  which  it  displaced.  A  system  which  not  only 
left  a  people  unblessed  with  truth,  but  failed  even  to 
animate  them  with  any  instincts  of  self-control,  is  twice 
condemned,  and  was  well  hurled  from  its  place  of  pride 
and  power  with  an  indignation  not  more  than  it  merited 
and  a  lawlessness  which  had  grown  up  under  its  own 
shadow." 

Hear  what  is  said  in  a  remarkably-able  essay  in  the 
Westminster  Review,  July,  1853,  p.  15  : 

"  By  a  simultaneous  movement  over  the  entire  Low- 
lands, the  images  were  destroyed  in  the  churches,  and 
the  monasteries  laid  in  ruins.  Not  a  life  was  lost,  not 
a  person  was  injured,  no  private  revenge  was  gratified 
in  the  confusion,  no  private  greediness  took  opportunity 
to  pilfer.  Only  the  entire  material  of  the  old  faith  was 
washed  clean  away. 

"  This  passionate  iconoclasm  has  been  alternately  the 
glory  and  the  reproach  of  John  Knox,  who  has  been 
considered  alike  by  friends  and  enemies  the  author  of 
it.  For  the  purification  of  the  churches  there  is  no 
doubt  that  he  was  responsible  to  the  full,  whatever  the 
responsibility  may  be  which  attaches  to  it;  but  the  de- 
struction of  the  religious  houses  was  the  spontaneous 
work  of  the  people,  which  in  the  outset  he  looked  upon 
with  mere  sorrow  and  indignation.  Like  Latimer  in 
England,  he  had  hoped  to  preserve  them  for  purposes 
of  education  and  charity ;  and  it  was  only  after  a  warn- 
ing which  sounded  in  the  ears  as  if  it  came  from  heaven 
that  he  stood  aloof  and  let  the  popular  anger  have  its 
way.  They  had  been  nests  of  profligacy  for  ages ;  the 
earth  was  weary  of  their  presence  upon  it;  and  when 
the  retribution  fell,  it  was  not  for  him  to  arrest  or  in- 
terfere   with  it.     Scone   Abbey,  the  residence  of  the 


350  JOHN    KNOX, 

Bishop  of  Murray,  was  infamous,  even  in  that  infamous 
time,  for  the  vices  of  its  occupants ;  and  the  bishop 
himself,  having  been  active  in  the  burning  of  Walter 
Milne,  had  thus  provoked  and  deserved  the  general 
haired.  After  the  French  garrison  was  driven  out  of 
Perth,  he  was  invited  to  appear  at  the  conference  of  the 
lords,  but  unwilling  or  afraid  to  come  forward  he  block- 
aded himself  in  the  abbey.  A  slight  thing  is  enough 
to  give  the  first  impulse  to  a  stone  which  is  ready  to 
fall ;  the  town  people  of  Perth  and  Dundee,  having  long 
scores  to  settle  with  him  and  with  the  brotherhood, 
caught  at  the  opportunity,  and  poured  out  and  sur- 
rounded him.  John  Knox,  with  the  provost  of  Perth 
and  what  force  they  could  muster,  hurried  to  the  scene 
to  prevent  violence,  and  for  a  time  succeeded — Knox 
himself  we  find  keeping  guard  all  one  night  at  the 
granary  door ;  but  the  mob  did  not  disperse,  and 
prowling  ominously  round  the  walls,  in  default  of  other 
weapons  made  free  use  of  their  tongues.  From  sharp 
words  to  sharp  strokes  is  an  almost  inevitable  transition 
on  such  occasions.  In  the  gray  of  the  morning  a  son 
of  the  bishop  ran  an  artisan  of  Dundee  through  the  body, 
and  in  an  instant  the  entire  mass  of  the  people  dashed 
upon  the  gates.  The  hour  of  Scone  was  come.  Knox 
was  lifted  gently  on  one  side,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
abbey  was  in  a  blaze.  As  he  stood  watching  the  de- 
struction, '  a  poor  aged  matron,'  he  tells  us,  '  who  was 
near  him,  seeing  the  flame  of  fire  pass  up  so  mightily, 
and  perceiving  that  many  were  thereat  offended,  in 
plain  and  sober  manner  of  speaking  said,  "  Now  I  per- 
ceive that  God's  judgments  are  just,  and  that  no  man  is 
able  to  save  when  he  will  punish.  Since  my  remem- 
brance this  place  has  been  nothing  but  a  den  of  whore- 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  351 

mongers.  It  is  incredible  to  believe  how  many  wives 
have  been  adulterated,  and  virgins  deflowered,  by  the 
filthy  beasts  which  have  been  fostered  in  this  den,  but 
especially  by  that  wicked  man  who  is  called  the  bishop. 
If  all  men  knew  as  much  as  I  they  would  praise  God, 
and  no  man  would  be  offended." ' 

"  Such  was  the  first  burst  of  the  Reformation  in 
Scotland  ;  we  need  not  follow  the  course  of  it.  It  was 
the  rising  up  of  a  nation,  as  we  have  said,  against  the 
wickedness  which  had  taken  possession  of  the  holiest 
things  and  holiest  places,  to  declare  in  the  name  of  God 
that  such  a  spectacle  should  no  longer  be  endured." 

So  much  for  the  first  slander.  And  now  for  the 
second  allegation  and  more  widely-spread  slander,  the 
heartlessness  and  brutality  of  Knox  in  his  six  inter- 
views and  general  dealing  with  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 
Oh  what  pathetic  pictures  have  been  painted  of  these 
scenes  !  They  are  as  unjust  to  Mary  as  to  Knox.  They 
are  as  absurd  and  laughable  to  the  patient  student  of 
this  period  as  to  the  Bible-reader  would  be  the  painting 
of  the  able  Jezebel  as  a  gentle  martyr  with  Elijah  as  a 
grim  inquisitor. 

It  is  wondrously  easy  for  those  who  would  change 
their  faith  as  often  as  fashion  and  self-interest  dictated ; 
it  is  easy  for  those  who  have  never  had  one  deep  con- 
viction in  their  lives  save  the  value  of  money  and  the 
supreme  importance  of  the  world's  favor ;  it  is  natural 
for  those  who  hate  Calvinism,  Presbyterianism  and  Puri- 
tanism, with  all  that  belongs  to  their  aggressive  forces  and 
their  unconquerable  resolution  and  power ;  it  is  to  some 
extent  necessary  for  those  who  would  do  away  with 
all  that  is  of  the  essence  of  the  Reformation ;  it  is 
thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  sacramentarian  and  Ro- 


352  JOHN    KNOX, 

manizing  party  everywhere  to  take  up  these  falsehoods 
and  repeat  this  cuckoo-cry  about  Knox  and  Mary  Stuart ; 
but  for  those  who  loA^e  truth  as  truth  and  seek  for  his- 
toric evidence,  who  care  not  to  retain  the  idols  of  any 
tribe,  the  question  is,  What  are  the  facts,  the  whole 
facts  ?  can  we  have  keen  dry  light  poured  on  this  field 
of  study  ?  can  we  summon  forth  the  witnesses,  and  hear- 
ing their  full  and  varied  testimonies  judge  for  ourselves? 
How  did  Knox  act  ?  What  did  he  say  ?  And  why  and 
under  what  circumstances  did  he  act  and  speak  just 
thus  ?  The  facts  abound;  history  is  speaking  out  plainly 
and  fully.  You  may  make  your  choice.  You  may  carry 
a  lie  in  your  right  hand  if  you  will.  You  may  say.  We 
prefer  the  romance  and  the  picture,  and  will  work  in  the 
dim  misleading  light  of  fancy  and  falsehood.  But  say 
so.  Do  not  pretend  to  have  read  evidence  when  you 
have  not.  Do  not  give  Walter  Scott,  and  Miss  Yonge, 
and  Stuart-flatterers  like  Aytoun,  as  historians  and  au- 
thorities. Do  not  repeat  the  perversions  of  Lingard  and 
the  lies  of  the  Bishop  of  Ross  as  reliable  testimony, 
nor  palm  off  the  oft-disproved  falsities  as  realities.  If  you 
will  not  acknowledge  his  greatness  and  goodness,  at  least 
do  not  slander  the  one  man  who  walked  closely  with  God, 
warred  successfully  for  the  faith  and  won  God's  free- 
dom for  the  people  who  made  this  land.  For  an  Amer- 
ican Puritan  or  Presbyterian  to  be  ignorant  of  John 
Knox  is  a  shame ;  to  defame  him  is  a  scandal  and  a  sin. 
As  I  said  before,  so  say  I  once  more.  The  facts  of 
Knox's  life  are  fame,  and  that  fame  is  stainless — clear 
now  "as  noontide  of  the  day,"  We  can  actually  wit- 
ness each  of  the  six  interviews  ;  we  can  hear  both 
Knox  and  Mary.  The  simple  facts  survive.  Seeking 
those  facts,  not  fancies,  we  find  ourselves,  so  to  speak. 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  353 

in  a  historic  ellipse ;  at  the  one  focal  point  stands  Eliz- 
abeth with  Cecil  and  Walsingham,  with  Leicester  and 
Essex,  and  behind  Sadler  and  Knollys  and  the  marvel- 
lous throng  of  England's  worthies ;  at  the  other  point  is 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  with  Knox  and  Murray,  Darn- 
ley  and  Bothwell  and  Rizzio  and  Chastelar,  and  the  four 
Maries  and  the  court  behind.  How  romantic  it  all  is  ! 
how  tragic !  and  the  romance  is  most  thrilling  and  the 
tragedy  most  terrible  where  Mary  Stuart,  in  her  beauty 
and  with  her  wealth  of  resources,  stands  the  royal  widow 
and  the  reckless  wanton.  "  The  great  religious  drama 
of  the  sixteenth  century,"  says  Froude,  "  was  played 
out  between  five  countries,  England,  Scotland,  France, 
Spain  and  the  Netherlands."  And  Scotland  was  the 
key  of  the  whole  position  ;  Mary  came  to  seize  that  key 
and  hold  it  for  the  pope,  and  thence  to  ruin  England  and 
make  the  League  of  the  Guise  and  of  Philip  triumphant. 
That  woman  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  personages 
in  history,  verily  a  tremendous  force  in  that  critical  and 
formative  time,  almost  the  deadly  fate  of  Scotland. 
She  has  been  immensely  underrated ;  her  ability  was 
vast,  her  aims  imperial,  her  activity  varying  and  tireless, 
her  allies  the  strongest  powers  of  that  day.  The  com- 
mon estimate  and  frequent  pictures  of  this  Stuart-Guise 
Mary,  as  the  weak  and  gentle  woman  and  the  pitiable, 
deeply-wronged  princess,  are  wholly  erroneous.  They 
are  the  fiction  of  romancists.  A  libel  really  they  are 
upon  this  Rome-known  and  Rome-trusted  woman  her- 
self, who  had  returned  to  Scotland  with  a  clear  purpose 
and  a  completed  plan  to  overthrow  all  the  reformers' 
work,  drive  forth  the  Protestants,  dethrone  Elizabeth, 
lay  Britain  once  more  at  the  feet  of  the  pope,  so  make 
it  easy  for  Spain  to  crush  the  Netherlands,  France  the 


354  JOHN    KNOX, 

Huguenots,  and  then  for  combined  Catholicism  to  stamp 
out  all  heresy  in  Germany  and  Sweden.  It  was  a 
project  of  startling  splendor ;  and  the  skill,  the  training, 
the  daring  and  many  resources  of  this  beauty  of  twenty, 
justified  that  faith  in  herself  that  never  faltered  till  she 
saw  the  headsman.  Verily  she  rose  every  inch  a  queen 
among  the  famous  and  forceful  women  of  that  day, 
Jeanne  d'Albret,  Mary  of  Lorraine,  Catherine  de  Medici 
and  Elizabeth  of  England.  Her  singular  powers  of  fas- 
cination were  alone  a  weapon  of  seldom-resisted  force. 
In  a  few  weeks  after  her  landing  she  had  broken  up  the 
bands  of  nobles  that  defied  her  able  and  resolute  mother 
and  bound  them  nearly  all  as  her  slaves. 

"  In  her  looks 
What,  snares  in  strangest  wise  all  sense  of  men, 
That  special  beauty,  subtle  as  man's  eye 
And  tender  as  the  inside  of  the  eyelid  is." 

And  there  was  also 

"  Her  cunning  speech, 
The  soft,  rapid  shudder  of  her  breath 
In  talking,  the  rare,  tender  little  laugh. 
The  pitiful  sweet  sound,  like  a  bird's  sigh. 
When  her  voice  breaks  ; — her  talking  does  it  all." 

And  then  too  there  were 

"  Her  eyes  with  those  clear  perfect  brows, 
It  is  the  playing  of  those  eyelashes 
Plucks  all  souls  toward  her  like  a  net." 

With  all  this  grace  of  face  and  form,  and  with  all  her 
perfectly-cultivated  powers  of  attraction  and  fascination 
which  she  with  familiar  art  wielded  at  will  and  ever 
with  a  purpose,  Mary  joined  a  strange  vigor  of  body 
and  a  stern  force  of  will.  She  rode  the  fleetest  horse 
and  hunted  the  longest  and  most  boldly  of  all  her  train, 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  355 

now  upon  the  borders  and  now  in  the  Highlands.  Fear 
she  knew  not ;  fatigue  she  scorned.  With  the  dash  of 
the  cavalier  and  the  daring  of  a  crusader  she  joined  the 
bold  courage  of  a  Stuart,  the  practical  shi'ewdness  of  a 
Tudor  and  the  deep  cunning  of  a  Guise.  She  was  able 
to  cope  with  the  shrewdest  and  strongest  men  of  that 
day  ;  in  plots  with  the  most  politic,  in  recklessness  with 
the  most  desperate,  in  duplicity  with  the  most  deceitful, 
in  unforgetting,  deadly,  merciless  hate  with  the  most 
passionate  and  vengeful  of  that  blood-stained  time.  In 
working  out  her  deep  designs  she  made  tools  of  her  three 
husbands,  agents  of  her  many  lovers.  She  aided  and 
abetted  four  murders,  she  connived  at  five  others,  she 
hatched  numerous  treasons  and  conspiracies,  all  in  the 
end  blood-drenched.  Among  the  merciless,  mightiest 
of  womankind  she  takes  her  place,  with  Jezebel  and 
Herodias,  with  Messalina  of  Rome  and  Catherine  of 
Russia.  Had  she  only  had  chastity  and  conscience,  or 
chastity  without  much  conscience,  she  might  have  been 
unchallenged  queen  of  Scotland,  easy  conqueror  of  Eliz- 
abeth, welcomed  sovereign  of  England,  proud  mate  of 
Spain  and  mistress  of  a  Catholic  world  !  But  her  loves 
baffled  her  at  the  very  nerve  of  the  crisis,  and  her  lust 
blasted  her  when  the  hour  was  big  with  fates.  There 
was  one  man,  keen-faced,  keener-eyed,  who  looked  her 
through  and  through  with  his  long,  steady  gaze,  under- 
stood her,  never  underrated  her,  never  changed  his 
clear,  calm  estimate ;  and  he  made  Cecil  see.  And 
Knox  and  Cecil  saved  Britain  and  her  faith. 

The  aims  of  this  singularly-able  woman  were  just  as 
remarkable  as  herself.  Mary  Stuart  had  a  life  work  ;  the 
same  as  the  Spanish  Philip's,  as  definite,  as  steadily  fol- 
lowed, more  promising  by  far,  often  well-nigh  accom- 


356  JOHN    KNOX, 

plished.  To-day  that  life  work,  the  restoration  of  Roman- 
ism, and  the  extinction  of  the  Reformation  at  least  in 
Britain,  lies  open  to  the  eyes  of  the  world.  Mary  Stuart, 
"born  in  sorrow  and  educated  in  treachery,"  met  that 
work  in  her  cradle ;  she  laid  it  down  only  in  her  coffin. 
Upon  the  very  day  her  unscrupulous  mother  deceived  Sir 
Ralph  Sadler  and  misled  England,  to  aid  the  deception 
she  lifted  upon  her  knee  the  infant  Mary  from  her  cra- 
dle ;  that  same  Sadler  watched  the  whole  life  of  that 
child  and  saw  it  end  at  the  block.  Her  opening  seven 
years  Mary  Stuart,  from  her  very  birth  the  centre  and 
the  cause  of  ceaseless  intrigues,  spent  under  the  tute- 
lage of  her  Guise  mother,  the  Beatouns  and  their  party 
of  persecution  and  of  crime.  In  1548  she  was  at  Had- 
dington betrothed  to  Francis  the  Dauphin,  and  soon 
afterwards  carried  to  France;  where  for  ten  years  more, 
in  the  vilest  court  of  Europe,  in  the  very  hotbed  of 
deadly  intrigues,  and  in  an  atmosphere  laden  with  lies 
and  reeking  with  the  most  pestilent  vapors  of  popery, 
she  was  under  the  guidance  of  her  Guise  uncles,  who 
were  then,  with  Philip  and  Alva,  the  very  pillars  of 
Rome  and  the  Inquisition.  On  the  24th  of  April,  1558, 
she  was  married.  The  object  of  that  union  was  the  same 
as  her  whole  education.  That  hour  was  the  brightest  the 
papacy  had  known  since  the  great  revolt.  Everything 
was  promising  victory  to  the  Vatican.  Spain  had  stamped 
out  the  last  footprints  of  the  Castilian  heretics.  Mighty 
was  the  counter-reformation.  Germany  was  divided, 
and  the  Protestants.  Alva  was  master  in  the  Nether- 
lands. England  was  full  of  plotting  traitors  like  Nor- 
folk and  Tonstall.  The  Huguenots  were  doomed.  The 
Guise  uncles,  the  kingly  flither-in-law,  the  princely  hus- 
band and  various  relations  of  Mary  Stuart  were  all  flame- 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  357 

hot  with  a  stern  resolve.  One  great  league  was  forming 
at  Bayonne  for  the  extirpation  of  Protestantism  ;  Cath- 
erine de  Medici  and  Alva  were  there.  That  grand  cru- 
sade was  the  dream  of  her  husband,  Francis  the  Second, 
and  the  passion  of  Mary  herself  Upon  the  accession 
of  EHzabeth  to  the  throne,  and  ever  after  till  the  block 
at  Fotheringay,  these  projects  were  linked, — the  destruc- 
tion of  Protestantism,  the  invasion  of  England,  the  de- 
feat and  death  of  Elizabeth,  and  the  union  of  the  king- 
doms under  Mary  as  Rome's  servant.  Francis  and  Mary 
openly  assumed  the  royal  arms  of  England,  openly  ne- 
gotiated with  the  Catholic  nobles  and  secretly  plotted 
with  traitors  and  with  assassins  against  Elizabeth.  For 
Mary  in  her  widowhood  the  plan  remained  as  clear  and 
complete  as  ever ;  and  she  came  back  to  Scotland  avow- 
edly to  work  it  out.  Burton  says,  "  To  Mary  at  Vitry 
in  Champaigne  came  John  Leslie,  afterwards  the  bishop 
of  Ross.  We  have  his  errand  from  himself.  He  repre- 
sented the  party  of  the  old  Church,  especially  the  lords 
Huntly,  Athole,  Crawford,  Marshal  and  Caithness.  He 
says  he  offered  the  duty  of  his  party  and  it  was  thank- 
fully received.  .  .  .This  was  no  less  than  'the  offer  of 
the  power  of  the  north  to  strike  at  once  a  great  blow  at 
the  congregation  and  for  the  old  religion.' "  And  in 
James  Robertson's  "  Statuta  Ecclesise  Scotise "  will  be 
found  Mary's  own  correspondence  with  the  pope  and  her 
Guise  uncles,  announcing  her  deliberate  resolution  to 
restore  the  old  religion  and  to  root  out  heresy.  Lord 
Advocate  Moncrieff  says,  "  It  is  now  proved  beyond  a 
doubt  by  documents  which  cannot  be  mistaken  that  this 
was  the  intention  with  which  Queen  Mary  set  sail  from 
France.  In  the  collection  of  Prince  Labanoflf,  a  work 
compiled  with  infinite  pains  and  labor  in  order,  as  the 


358  JOHN    KNOX, 

author  thinks,  to  raise  the  reputation  of  the  unfortunate 
queen,  letters  are  found  from  the  day  she  landed  in  Scot- 
land down  to  the  day  of  her  death  which  prove  the  un- 
broken constancy  with  which  her  plans  were  pursued. 
With  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  the  ministers  of  France, 
the  Duke  of  Alva  and  Philip  the  Second,  the  pope, 
and  in  short  all  the  heads  of  the  Catholic  party  in 
Europe,  her  correspondence  was  unremitting.  It  proves 
her  to  have  been  a  woman  of  great  ability,  devoted  to 
political  intrigue  and  an  accomplished  dissembler.  No 
one  knew  better  how  to  use  her  advantages,  and  if  she 
did  not  succeed  in  enlisting  Knox  on  her  side,  it  was  be- 
cause his  honesty  and  sagacity  were  proof  against  al- 
lurements which  even  strong  and  earnest  men  had  been 
unable  to  resist."  Yes,  the  one  clear-eyed,  simple-minded 
man,  ever  busy  with  his  continental  correspondents,  un- 
derstood it  all.  Burton  remarks,  vol.  iv.  p.  219,  "  Knox 
also  had  his  correspondents  on  the  continent,  and  seems 
to  have  known  the  steady  consistency  with  which  the 
queen  preserved  her  communications  with  France,  Spain 
and  the  court  of  Rome.  For  all  the  skill  with  which 
she  had  represented  herself  as  a  simple,  unprejudiced 
person  seeking  knowledge  and  open  to  conviction,  his 
sagacity  early  revealed  to  him  that  she  was  an  assured, 
unwavering  champion  of  the  old  faith.  So  early  as  Oc- 
tober 1561  he  wrote  thus  to  Cecil." 

And  her  allies  were  numerous  and  mighty  :  the  dis- 
appointed and  Romish  peers  and  prelates,  and  the  many 
hidden  but  active  priests  of  England  and  Scotland,  the 
whole  force  of  France,  the  power  of  Spain,  the  army 
and  skill  of  Alva,  and  the  continuous  and  all-pervading 
influences  of  Rome. 

Mary  Stuart  almost  succeeded.     But  she  was  met 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  359 

and  finally,  though  not  without  stern  battles  and  blood 
of  peer  and  peasant,  mastered  by  one  lone  man  who 
feared  none  and  fully  trusted  in  God  !  What,  one  man  ! 
John  Knox  left  alone  of  all  his  old  friends  and  co- 
workers !  Yes,  twice  in  this  last  great  struggle  for  the 
reformed  faith  and  for  Scottish  freedom  Knox  stood 
absolutely  alone,  deserted  by  every  leader  of  the  once- 
united  party  of  progress  and  Protestantism.  In  Scot- 
land every  man  of  power  had,  by  Mary's  craft  or  spells, 
been  led  to  forsake  Knox  ;  and  the  kirk-party,  from  the 
clever  Maitland,  the  Ahithophel  of  Edinburgh,  and  the 
brave  Kirkaldy  of  Grange,  to  Murray,  so  long  the  staunch 
friend  of  Knox  and  yet  to  become  more  devoted  to  him 
than  ever,  all  laughed  in  Mary's  laughter  at  Knox ;  all 
derided  his  counsel ;  all  mocked  his  fears  about  Mary's 
one  mass.  They  all  reaped  the  whirlwind ;  and  they 
remembered  sorrowfully,  like  Grange  and  Morton,  their 
fatuous  blindness.  In  Knox's  plain  common  sense  lay 
safety ;  but  in  the  flames  of  the  throne  the  moths  now 
delighted ;  death  came  to  them  all  in  turn,  from  Mait- 
land, dying,  old  and  forsaken,  by  his  own  hand,  to 
Darnley,  dying  through  his  foul  wife's  craft. 

But  was  there  not  Elizabeth  of  England  ?  The  least 
said  regarding  that  too-much-bepraised  woman  in  this 
connection  the  better !  This  Elizabeth  Tudor  was  never 
a  very  pleasing  object  in  my  eyes ;  and  the  more  I 
search  and  think,  the  more  rapidly  she  grows  less 
pleasing.  As  the  king  and  Daniel  saw  in  the  panorama 
of  empire  iron  and  miry  clay  joined,  so  here  in  this 
Elizabeth  very  miry  clay  and  very  true  iron  are  seen 
united.  As  a  queen,  she  was  in  many  respects  admir- 
able ;  as  a  woman,  she  seems  to  me  in  most  features 
simply  abominable ;  and  to  call  her  to-day  the  bulwark 


860  JOHN    KNOX, 

of  Protestantism  is  a  sheer  absurdity.  The  best  foil 
and  most  effective  apology  cruel  and  crafty  Mary  Stuart 
has  is  that  vain  and  vacillating  coquette,  who,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  her  own  throne  and  her  own  neck,  would 
have  forced  Mary  back  at  the  sword's  point  on  Scotland, 
convulsed  the  kingdoms  and  wrecked  the  Church.  If 
mean  hatred  of  Knox  because  he  was  a  republican  and 
a  Presbyterian,  if  jealousy  of  Scotland,  if  deep  dislike 
of  the  thorough  Protestantism  of  Luther  and  Latimer, 
Calvin  and  Knox,  if  pride  and  petulance,  if  lies,  du- 
plicity and  parsimony,  could  have  ruined  the  cause  of 
truth  and  left  all  Britain  at  the  feet  of  the  papacy,  and 
herself  an  outlaw  and  a  victim,  the  career  of  Elizabeth 
would  have  wrought  this  ruin.  From  the  exhaustive 
pages  of  Knox,  Froude,  McCrie  and  Burton  I  have 
counted  forty-three  instances  of  this  almost  fatal  folly. 
Her  selfishness,  wrought  on  by  Cecil,  who  was  ever 
alive  to  her  peril,  did  at  last  force  her  to  help  Scot- 
land ;  but  the  Church  and  the  man  who  really  saved 
her  she  hated. 

Every  man  and  woman  in  Britain  did  Mary  Stuart 
outwit  save  one  :  the  whole  Scottish  court  and  council, 
her  own  brother  Murray,  though  he  knew  her  so  well, 
her  ablest  adviser  Maitland,  who,  next  to  Cecil,  Wal- 
singham  and  Knox,  was  the  shrewdest  man  of  the  hour. 
She  utterly  blinded  Elizabeth  for  a  time  ;  she  repeatedly 
befooled  Randolph ;  twice  tricked  most  laughably  the 
keen-witted  Knollys,  and  once  disarmed  the  suspicions 
even  of  William  Cecil.  Never  once  John  Knox.  That 
extraordinary  man  and  that  remarkable  woman  measured 
each  other  exactly,  quietly  as  duellists.  Knox  was  the 
only  man  whom  Mary  Stuart,  as  we  know  from  Throck- 
morton, dreaded  in  Britain.     Tytler  gives   us   the  fol- 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  361 

lowing  letter  of  Throckmorton  to  Queen  Elizabeth, 
which  shows  exactly  Mary's  estimate  and  fear  of  Knox : 
"  I  understand  that  the  queen  of  Scotland  is  thoroughly 
persuaded  that  the  most  dangerous  man  in  all  the  realm 
of  Scotland,  both  to  her  intent  there  and  to  the  dissolv- 
ing of  the  league  between  that  realm  and  your  majesty, 
is  Knox.  And  therefore  she  is  fully  determined  to  use 
all  the  means  she  can  devise  to  banish  him  thence  or 
else  to  assure  them  that  she  will  never  dwell  in  that 
country  as  long  as  he  is  there.  And  to  make  him  the 
more  odious  to  your  majesty,  and  that  at  your  hands  he 
receive  neither  courage  nor  comfort,  she  mindeth  to 
send  very  shortly  to  your  majesty  the  book  he  hath 
written  against  the  regiment  of  women,  thinking  thereby 
to  animate  your  majesty  against  him.  But  whatever 
the  said  queen  shall  insinuate  to  your  majesty,  him  I 
take  ...  to  have  done  and  to  do  daily  as  good  service 
as  any  for  the  establishment  of  a  mutual  benevolence 
and  common  quiet  between  the  two  realms."  And 
Mary  Stuart  was  not  appreciated  as  the  ablest  woman  of 
the  time  by  any  but  Knox.  The  woman  knew  her  dead- 
liest antagonist ;  the  man  recognized  his  hardest  fight. 

There  are  two  great  sections  here  :  John  Knox  deal- 
ing with  Mary  Stuart  up  to  the  Darnley  marriage ; 
John  Knox  resisting  Mary  after  the  Bothwell  union. 

One  short  week  has  hardly  passed  since  her  Leith 
landing  until  the  clever  and  resolute  woman  and  the 
clever  and  resolute  man  look  one  another  in  the  face. 

"  She  set  herself  to  gain 
Him,  the  most  famous  man  of  all  those  times." 

The  queen  is  pleasant  and  the  master  of  young  Scotland 
is  polite.     John  Knox  was  a  gentleman,  the  companion 

24 


362  JOHN    KNOX, 

for  years  of  peers  and  gentlefolk,  the  friend  of  a  king. 
He  was  no  fawning  fool,  but  he  was  never  wanting  in 
courtesy.  Calm  and  self-possessed,  he  knew  the  posi- 
tion he  had  won  in  his  land  and  which  God  had  crowned, 
and  he  spoke  without  fear — and  without  brutality.  That 
story  is  false,  and  only  false.  That  day  Mary  Stuart 
claimed  as  queen  the  divine  right  to  do  what  she  liked ; 
and  John  Knox  in  clear,  cogent  sentences  proved  to  her 
the  divine  right  of  the  people  to  make  kings  rule  right- 
eously or  abide  the  consequences.  He  would  not  yield, 
and  the  queen  wept.  Tears  of  defeat  those  were,  not  of 
an  ill-treated  woman. 

"  And  Vivien  ever  sought  to  work  the  charm 
Upon  the  great  Enchanter  of  the  time ; 
As  fancying  that  her  glory  would  be  great, 
According  to  his  greatness  whom  she  quenched." 

Three  more  interviews  :  Knox  quiet,  self-possessed, 
plain-spoken,  but  well-bred  as  a  gentleman,  —  Mary 
clever,  sharp-tongued,  quick  to  seize  any  advantage, 
and  failing  ever  in  her  plans  and  foiled  by  the  brave. 
God-fearing  commoner,  closing  the  interview  with  tears 
because  her  efforts  were  vain. 

With  the  court  party  the  queen  triumphed.  The 
mass  was  restored,  the  priests  flocked  back,  and  the 
old  Scottish  faction  were  already  assured  of  victory. 
"  The  court  set  the  example  of  profligacy.  Mary's  own 
conduct  was  at  first  only  ambiguous ;  but  her  French 
relatives  profited  by  what  Knox  calls  the  recovered 
liberty  of  the  devil.  The  good  people  of  Edinburgh 
were  scandalized  with  shameful  brothel  brawls,  and  not 
Catherine  de  Medici  herself  presided  over  a  circle  of 
young  ladies  and  gentlemen  more  questionable  than 
those  which  filled  the  galleries  of  Holyrood.     From  the 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  363 

courtiers  the  scandal  extended  to  the  queen  herself,  and 
in  two  years  two  of  her  lovers  died  upon  the  scaffold 
under  very  doubtful  circumstances.  Even  more  offensive 
and  impolitic  was  the  gala  with  which  she  celebrated  the 
massacre  of  Vassy,  the  first  of  that  infernal  catalogue  of 
crimes  by  which  the  French  annals  of  those  years  are 
made  infamous ;  and  at  last  she  joined  the  Tridentine 
league,  which  was  to  execute  the  Tridentine  decrees  and 
extirpate  Protestantism.  Knox  from  his  pulpit  in  St. 
Giles  week  after  week  announced  these  things  ;  but  the 
knights  of  the  holy  war  were  all  wandering  enchanted 
in  the  Armida  forest,  and  refused  to  listen  to  him.  The 
people,  though  they  lay  beyond  the  circle  of  the  charm, 
were  as  yet  unable  to  interfere.  Yet  in  Knox  the  fire 
which  Mary  dreaded  was  still  kept  alive,  and  she  left 
no  means  untried  to  extinguish  it.  She  threatened  him, 
she  cajoled  him,  sending  for  him  again  and  again."  She 
challenged  his  speech  about  that  same  dancing  of  her- 
self and  her  court  over  the  bloody  graves  of  the  Prot- 
estant martyrs;  and  she  got  this  quiet  and  manly 
answer  :  "  And  of  dancing,  madam,  I  said  that  although 
in  the  Scriptures  I  find  no  praise  of  it,  and  in  profane 
writers  that  it  is  termed  the  gesture  rather  of  those 
that  are  mad  and  in  frenzy  than  of  sober  men,  yet  do 
I  not  utterly  condemn  it,  providing  that  two  faults  be 
avoided.  The  former  that  the  principal  vocation  of 
those  that  use  that  exercise  be  not  neglected  for  the 
pleasure  of  dancing.  Secondly,  that  they  dance  not  as 
the  Philistines  their  fathers,  for  the  pleasure  they  take 
in  the  displeasure  of  God's  people." 

Thank  God  !  there  were  then  two  Scotlands — the  Scot- 
land of  the  Court  and  Convenience — the  Scotland  of  the 
Church  and  of  Conscience.     To  the  latter  John  Knox 


364  JOHN    KNOX, 

was  steadily  speaking  from  his  pulpit-throne  at  St.  Giles. 
The  people  heard  and  heeded ;  and  the  country  was 
lost  to  the  court.  The  army  of  the  Congregation  would 
be  ready  for  the  fight  when  the  trumpet  of  the  Lord 
sounded.  Mary  and  Maitland  forgot  that  Scotland  no 
more  meant  the  peers,  but  was  now  the  people.  Knox 
understood  the  queen,  and  he  at  last  unmasked  the 
plans  of  the  papal  devotee  before  the  people.  Upon  an 
August  Sabbath  in  1583,  up  from  the  Netherbow  Port 
towards  the  High  Street 

"One,  stooped  somewhat  in  the  neck, 
Walks,  with  his  face  and  chin  against  the  wind, 
Lips  sideway  shut, — a  keen-faced  man  ! 

'Tis  Master  Knox, 
Who  carries  all  these  folks  within  his  skin. 
Their  hearts  beat  inside  his  ;  they  gather 
At  his  lips  like  flies  in  the  sun." 

Ay,  the  people ;  peers,  no !  He  passes  up  the  old 
ways  alone ;  the  people  draw  aside  and  stand  bare- 
headed ;  he  enters,  full  of  thought,  the  old  church.  He 
is  deeply  stirred  by  the  memories  of  other  days ;  the 
stakes  of  his  friends  rise  up  before  him,  and  the  graves 
of  the  soldiers  of  the  Congregation ;  he  thinks  of  the 
determined  and  repeated  refusal  of  Queen  Mary  to 
ratify  the  solemn  treaty  of  Edinburgh,  and  the  traitor- 
ous acts  of  Maitland  and  the  council  in  their  wicked 
connivance  with  her;  he  reviews  the  cunning  and  suc- 
cessful devices  of  the  queen  by  which  the  Protestant 
party  has  been  divided,  and  the  steadily-pursued  plans 
of  the  Romanists.  The  fire  burns  hot  within  his  soul. 
Moreover  the  lynx-eyed  sentinel  upon  the  kirk-wall, 
from  whose  steady  gaze  nothing  long  lay  hid,  has  just 
discovered  the  famous  Granville-D'Arschot  project  to 
marry  Mary  Stuart  to  Don   Carlos   of  Spain,  and  so 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  365 

secure  "  the  reduction  of  the  kingdom  of  Scotland  and 
of  England  to  the  Catholic  faith."  It  lies  all  open  now 
to  us  in  the  pages  of  Labanoff,  Mignet  and  Froude. 
But  that  August  day  only  Knox  and  the  plotters  knew 
it.  The  church  is  packed.  And  the  court-spies  are  not 
wanting.  A  sermon  of  thrilling  power  is  poured  forth 
by  Knox.  The  hearts  of  the  people  are  throbbing  fast 
and  strong.  Then  comes  an  appeal  for  faithfulness 
from  the  old  man,  which  was  melting  by  its  deep  pathos 
and  its  tender  personal  reminiscences  of  the  old  days 
of  battle  and  of  victory.  And  then  is  shot  the  thunder- 
bolt, the  story  of  the  Spanish  marriage  and  the  Romish 
plot.  That  sermon  convulsed  Scotland,  convinced  of 
their  danger  the  Protestants  of  Britain,  and  confounded 
the  court.  Mary  was  wild  with  rage.  Then  followed  the 
celebrated  scene  where  that  foiled  and  furious  papist- 
schemer  insulted  by  her  insolent  question  this  prince 
of  God,  in  whose  presence  she  was  not  fit  to  appear,  as 
she  sneeringly  asked,  "  What  are  you  in  this  common- 
wealth ?"  and  where  the  calm,  self-possessed  gentleman 
and  right  noble  freeman  made  the  splendid  reply,  "  A 
subject  born  within  the  same,  madam ;  and  albeit  I  be 
neither  earl,  lord  nor  baron  in  it,  yet  has  God  made 
me, — however  abject  I  be  in  your  eyes, — a  profitable 
member  within  the  same."  Search  literature  and  find 
a  more  sublime  reply  ! 

Flaming  forth  in  her  passion  which  in  her  fiercer 
moods  she  could  never  master,  Mary  cried,  "  I  vow  to 
God  I  shall  be  once  revenged!" 

"White  was  her  cheek  :  sharp  breaths  of  anger  puffed 
Her  fairy  nostril  out ;  her  hand  half  clenched 
Went  faltering  sideways  downward  to  her  belt, 
And  feeling  ;  had  she  found  a  dagger  there 
She  would  have  stabbed  him  ;  but  she  found  it  not : 


366  JOHN    KNOX, 

His  eye  was  calm, — and  suddenly  she  took 
To  bitter  weeping,  like  a  beaten  child, 
A  long,  long  weeping,  not  consolable. 
Then  her  false  voice  made  way," — 

I  shall  be  revenged  !  And  she  tried  it ;  first  a  trumped- 
up  charge  of  treason  before  the  Council,  where  he  stood 
alone  to  say,  "  I  am  in  the  place  where  I  am  demanded 
of  conscience  to  speak  the  truth  ;  and  therefore  the  truth 
I  speak,  impugn  it  whoso  list ;"  and  second,  the  dag- 
gers of  the  assassins.  Both  failed.  And  of  Knox  "she 
could  in  nowise  be  quit ;"  and  in  him  lived  on  the  true 
Scotland.  The  churchman  and  not  the  courtier  is  mas- 
ter. For  some  two  years  Knox  remains  in  partial  re- 
tirement ;  but  ever  watchful,  busy  with  the  Church  and 
with  Cecil  and  Randolph,  who  rely  on  that  old  man  as 
the  strength  of  Scotland  and  the  shield  of  England. 

Now  come  the  Murder  Months.  Chastelar,  with 
whom  Mary  had  toyed  in  Paris  while  her  first  husband 
was  dying,  whom  she  had  shamelessly  caressed  on  ship- 
board and  lured  on  to  desperation,  has  been  sacrificed  to 
shield  her  name.  Darnley,  who  has  been  the  hope  of 
the  English  and  Scotch  papists  because  the  heir  of  the 
Tudor  line,  and  to  whom  for  solely  political  objects 
Mary  Stuart  was  married  on  Sunday,  July  29,  1565, 
has  just  had  David  Rizzio  murdered,  now  known  to 
have  been  not  only  the  queen's  favorite  but  also  the 
supple,  subtle  Romish  emissary,  like  Raulet,  Chesein, 
Yaxley  and  Chambers.  Mary  swears  revenge,  and  here 
the  oath  fails  not.  Darnley,  licentious  fool,  soon  per- 
ceives both  his  doom  and  his  successor.  He  falls  sick, 
and  poison  is  strongly  suspected.  The  sick  man  is  re- 
covering of  the  smallpox  and  the  drug,  if  such  were 
really  used;  but  on  the  9th  of  February,  1567,  the  sick 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  367 

husband,  whom  his  wife  persuades  to  leave  his  father's 
care  for  Craigmillar  Castle ;  the  blind  weakling,  whom 
this  consummate  hypocrite  induces  on  the  way  to  ex- 
change Craigmillar  for  the  ruinous  Kirk-a-field ;  the 
doomed  victim,  whom  gentle  Mary  has  petted  out  of  his 
strong  fears  into  quietness  while  the  powder  is  being 
piled  below  his  room,  and  then  with  a  lying  excuse 
leaves  to  be  blown  up  while  she  feasts  and  dances, — 
Henry  Darnley  is  foully,  basely  murdered  by  Mary 
and  Bothwell.  Then  comes  the  scandalous  ride  to  Dun- 
bar, the  more  scandalous  stay  with  Bothwell,  and  the 
most  scandalous  enforced  divorce  and  the  blood-dyed 
marriage. 

Just  at  that  storm-swept  and  sin-laden  time  John 
Knox  returns  from  his  visit  to  England  to  be  confronted 
with  a  convulsed  capital  and  a  clamoring  country.  The 
whole  evidence  is  laid  before  him.  At  once  he  speaks 
out ;  he  loathes  the  crime  so  doubly  black ;  he  de- 
nounces the  wedded  criminals.  It  was  murder  foulest, 
most  cowardly,  damnable.  Was  it  less  so  because  a 
beautiful  woman  wrought,  as  adviser  and  accessory,  the 
unutterable,  detestable  deed  ?  Queen  though  she  were, 
she  was  as  black  with  lust,  as  red  with  blood,  as  Both- 
well.  Do  you  love  the  snake  that  stings  to  death  be- 
cause beautiful  ?  does  the  rank  of  the  criminal  change 
the  character  of  the  deed  ?  Nay,  verily  !  So  thought 
Knox,  and  said  so. 

Was  she  guilty  ?  John  Knox  proposed  the  fair  and 
true  course  :  let  the  queen  be  tried,  and  if  innocent 
stand  free,  if  guilty  be  dealt  with  as  eternal  justice  de- 
mands !  We  now  see  the  evidence  her  brother,  her 
lords,  Knox,  Cecil,  the  French  and  Spanish  courts,  had ; 
we  have  her  own  letters  to  Bothwell ;  we  have  the  tes- 


368  JOHN    KNOX, 

timony  of  Bothwell's  servants,  the  confessions  of  the 
conspirators,  the  oath  of  her  brother  before  the  York 
Commission,  the  A^erdict  of  Francis  Bacon  and  of  the 
English  Council,  the  despatches  of  the  French  and 
Spanish  ambassadors  to  their  respective  courts,  the  dec- 
laration of  her  guilt  by  the  very  Duke  of  Norfolk  once 
about  to  marry  her,  and  finally  the  exposure  of  Mary  by 
one  who  knew  her  better  than  any  but  Knox,  the  Bishop 
of  Ross  himself.  The  evidence  is  superabundant.  And 
the  historic  Mary  Stuart  must  take  her  place  henceforth 
as  more  determined,  deceitful,  deadly,  than  the  Lady 
Macbeth  of  poetry.  The  dry,  keen,  pitiless  light  of 
full  day  is  poured  upon  that  lie-blackened,  lust-stained, 
blood-soaked  field. 

Knox  demanded  justice.  Well  had  it  been  had  he, 
the  one  wise,  firm-souled,  clean-handed  man  of  Scot- 
land's leaders,  been  obeyed.  The  lords  dared  not  do 
the  right.  Their  own  hands  were  not  clean.  They  im- 
prisoned Mary  at  Lochleven.  But  once  again  they  had 
sowed  the  wind ;  soon  came  the  whirlwind.  The  land 
is  in  an  uproar.  Murray,  who  has  in  those  dark  days 
turned  back  to  his  true  friend  and  wisest  counsellor, 
Knox,  has  been  called  to  govern,  and  is  proving  himself 
what  a  grateful  country  called  him,  and  what  history  at 
last  endorses,  "  the  Good  Regent."  Mary  conspires 
with  the  jealous  Hamiltons  and  the  plotting  papists ; 
and  through  George  Douglas,  over  whom  she  has  cast 
her  glamour  and  fatal  spell,  escapes  upon  the  2d  of  May, 
1568.  Civil  war  begins  between  the  Scotland  of  the 
Court  and  the  Scotland  of  the  Church.  To  the  side  of 
Murray  Knox  calls  the  young  land  ;  to  the  side  of  Mary 
rallies  the  party  of  the  old  nobles  and  that  old  Church ; 
but  the  blanket-banner  of  the  Glasgow  burghers  and  the 


THE    FATHER   OF    SCOTLAND.  369 

Lothian  yeomen  waves  triumphantly  at  Langside,  while 
Mary  and  her  supporters  flee  across  the  border. 

Then  come  the  years  of  plots  and  conspiracies.  In  the 
centre  stands,  cool,  crafty,  pitiless,  this  blood-stained 
woman.  Elizabeth  will  force  this  foul  queen  back  on  a 
reluctant  people.  The  regent  rises  up,  strong  and  noble, 
to  the  call  of  the  hour ;  and  Knox  cheers  him  on,  and 
the  country  supports  both.  Then  by  another  diabolic 
plot,  of  which  Mary  Stuart  was  a  well-pleased  abettor, 
and  by  an  assassin  for  whom  Knox  had  just  prayed  for- 
giveness, whom  Murray  had  just  pardoned,  ay,  an  as- 
sassin his  gentle  sister  Mary  thanked,  and  pensioned 
for  life — the  one  supremely  brave  and  unselfish  peer 
in  Scotland,  the  Good  Regent,  is  murdered  on  the  23d 
of  January,  1570.  As  you  stand  beside  the  black  block 
of  Fotheringay,  remember  that  there  is  a  God  who 
reigneth  in  righteousness,  while  the  headsman's  axe 
gleams  above  the  murderess  of  her  husband  Darnley 
and  her  brother  Murray  ! 

Now  all  Scotland  seems  rushing  fast  to  doom.  All 
England  shakes  with  conspiracies.  In  Scotland,  Mait- 
land,  Chatelherault,  Huntly,  Ross,  are  plotting  with  the 
Spaniards  and  the  papists  ;  in  England  Elizabeth  actu- 
ally quakes,  Cecil  himself  is  alarmed,  the  Catholics  of 
the  north  are  arming  and  Norfolk  is  at  their  head.  The 
crisis  has  come  in  all  wildness  ;  and  if  Elizabeth  be 
swept  to  ruin,  she  richly  deserves  it.  But  one  old, 
strong-souled,  firm-faithed  man  saves  her.  He  knew 
the  north  of  England,  the  plan  of  the  Catholic  leagues, 
the  plots  of  Maitland  and  the  Ilamiltons,  the  projects  of 
Alva  and  Philip,  the  meaning  of  Mary's  victory  and  re- 
turn to  power  ;  and  he  made  Scotland  know.  Out  from 
St.  Giles  sweeps  the  wild,  mighty,  rousing  slogan  of 


370  JOHN    KNOX, 

Knox.  The  Lowlands  have  started,  the  armies  of  the 
Congregation  march,  and  war  begins.  Out  from  St. 
Andrews,  to  which  for  safety  from  Mary's  assassins  the 
old  man  has  been  forcibly  carried  by  his  friends,  swell 
the  trumpet-tones  of  Knox,  putting,  as  Randolph  wrote 
to  Cecil,  "  more  life  into  men  than  six  hundred  trump- 
ets." "Out  from  the  pulpit  up  to  which  the  old  man  must 
be  helped,  but  in  which  he  waxes  strong  and  stalwart 
as  though  he  would  '  ding  it  in  blads,'  pour  those  heart- 
stirring  calls  that  move  Scotland."  The  steel-bonnets 
gather ;  and  they  stand  firm  till  Knox  moves  Cecil ;  till 
Cecil  and  Walsingham  and  Randolph  move  Elizabeth, 
now  alarmed  for  her  crown  and  her  life ;  till  English 
troops  join  these  armies  of  the  Congregation ;  till  Edin- 
burgh is  taken  and  Scotland  saved.  One  man  stood  in 
the  gap  of  death,  and  barred  the  way  against  Mary's 
party  and  Rome's  partisans. 

Now  back  from  St.  Andrews  where  the  prophet  has 
been  the  joy  and  the  pride  of  the  students,  who  play 
their  shows  before  the  hearty,  genial  old  father,  and  race 
about  him  and  cluster  fondly  around  him  sitting  in  the 
college  grounds,  the  old  man  comes  to  die, — yes,  and  of 
a  broken  heart.  In  the  midst  of  their  own  joy  and  their 
own  victory  they  hear  of  "  black  Bartholomew."  For 
his  last  great  effort  God's  prophet  ascends  the  pulpit  of 
St.  Giles ;  and  the  sermon  is  thrilling.  At  its  close 
Knox  turns  to  the  French  ambassador  and  pronounces 
God's  doom  upon  his  master's  bloody  house — the  never- 
departing  sword.  Unable  to  fill  St.  Giles,  the  dying 
prophet  is  preaching  his  last  words  at  the  Tolbooth. 
One  sermon  of  peculiar  beauty  and  tenderness  was 
preached  in  the  Tolbooth  on  the  9th  of  November ;  then 
Knox  and   the  congregation  moved  up   to   St.   Giles, 


THE    FATHER    OF    SCOTLAND.  371 

where  the  dying  man,  who  had  never  recovered  that 
Bartholomew  blow,  installed  his  successor,  and  then  took 
his  long,  lingering  farewell  of  his  church  and  his  con- 
gregation and  his  country.  And  then  down  the  sloping 
street,  through  the  lines  of  bareheaded  men  and  sob- 
bing women  and  awed  children,  leaning  on  his  staff  went 
the  father  of  his  church  and  country.  In  his  little  room 
he  laid  him  down  to  die  in  the  calmness  of  a  hero,  in 
the  humility  of  a  sinner,  in  the  faith  of  a  Christian,  in 
the  submission,  hope  and  joy  of  a  home-going  child,  yet 
with  a  broken  heart.  Bartholomew's  blood  lay  spread 
out  before  his  eyes,  "and  he  was  weary,  weary  of  the 
world."  He  calls  his  servants,  pays  them  their  wages, 
speaks  to  them  kindly  and  dismisses  them  with  a  bless- 
ing. His  friends  pour  in  and  would  flatter,  but  the  humble 
man  said,  "  Peace;  the  flesh  of  itself  is  over-proud."  His 
old  foes,  like  Boyd,  come  and  visit  him,  and  the  large- 
souled  man  forgives  them.  The  new  Regent  Morton 
visits  him,  and  the  brave  man  questions  him,  ere  he 
welcomes  him,  if  he  was  clear  of  Darnley's  blood ;  and 
then  he  speaks  words  which  Morton  will  recall  in  the 
after  years  upon  the  scaffold.  It  is  Monday,  the  24th  of 
November,  1572 ;  the  last  pain  has  seized  his  aching 
heart, — "  not  a  painful  pain,"  says  the  uncomplaining 
hero,  "  but  such  a  one,  I  trust,  as  will  put  an  end  to  the 
battle."  Beside  him  wait  the  faithful  Campbell  of  Braid 
and  the  devoted  Bannatyne.  His  loving  wife,  Margaret 
Stewart,  for  twelve  years  his  worthy  mate,  reads  to  him 
as  desired  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  First  Corinthians,  and 
the  dying  man  says,  "  Beautiful !  is  it  not  a  beautiful 
chapter  !"  It  is  evening ;  the  pain  grows  sharper,  and 
the  man  is  fighting  his  last  fight  with  the  tempter.  The 
victory  is  gained  through  humility  and   faith.     It  is 


372  JOHN    KNOX. 

night — ten  o'clock ;  it  will  soon  be  over.  "  Read  me 
the  chapter  where  I  first  cast  anchor."  The  seventeenth 
chapter  of  John  is  read ;  and  then  in  a  few  minutes, 
with  hand  lifted  up  in  token  of  his  unfaltering  faith,  he 
passes  from  the  Memory  of  the  great  High  Priest  and 
the  Echo  of  his  prayer  to  the  Presence  of  the  King  and 
the  Sound  of  his  voice  and  joyous  greeting,  Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant !  Yes,  it  was  well  done.  Ver- 
ily he  was  faithful. 

His  country  mourned  over  him,  as  children  for  a 
father.  His  country  gathered  round  his  grave  in  the 
old  churchyard  of  St.  Giles.  Morton  said  over  him  : 
"  There  lies  he  who  never  feared  the  face  of  man." 
The  noblemen  and  freemen  of  Kyle  and  Cunningham 
called  him  "the  first  Planter  and  chief  Waterer  of 
God's  Church." 

But  his  own  words  are  best.  "  What  I  have  been  to 
my  country,  albeit  this  unthankful  age  will  not  know, 
yet  the  ages  to  come  will  be  compelled  to  bear  witness 
to  the  truth.  Yet  what  hast  thou  that  thou  hast  not 
received  ?  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am  :  not 
I,  but  the  grace  of  God  in  me." 

No  man  knoweth  his  grave ;  but  his  memory  lives 
in  the  hearts  of  countless  freemen,  and  his  monument 
is  found  in  Scotland,  in  her  Church  and  children  with 
their  works  of  faith  and  labors  of  love. 


OUR  HERITAGE  AND  OUR  HOPES. 


"Thus  far  our  fortune  keeps  an  upward  course, 
And  we  are  graced  with  wreaths  of  victory." 


OUR  HERITAGE  AND  OUR  HOPES. 

THE  PROSPECTS  OF  PROTESTANTISM. 


"  So  THEN,  BRETHREN,  WE  ARE   NOT  CHILDREN  OF  THE  BONDWOMAN,  BUT  OF 
THE     FREE.       StAND     FAST     THEREFORE    IN     THE     LIBERTY    WHEREWITH 

Christ  hath  made  us  free,  and  be  not   entangled  again  with 
THE  YOKE  OF  BONDAGE." — Galatians  iv.  31  and  v.  1. 

West  of  the  Rhine,  and  east  of  the  Haardt  Hills, 
where  a  vine-clad  stream  joins  the  torrent  river  of  the 
Fatherland,  stands  a  little  city.  The  colonizing  Ro- 
mans knew  it  as  Noviomagus ;  old  German  kings  and 
Salic  princes  named  it  "  Wine-home ;"  bishops  and  jur- 
ists spoke  of  it  as  the  "  City  of  Diets ;"  antiquaries 
visited  it  as  the  "  Sepulchre  of  German  emperors ;"  but 
we  and  all  our  posterity  will  honor  this  old  Speyer  as 
the  City  of  the  Immortal  Protest. 

From  Heidelberg  we  run  fourteen  miles  to  the  south- 
west, crossing  in  our  way  the  Rhine,  and  at  last  reach 
the  war-wasted  place.  The  fiendish  violences  of  the 
Mordbrenner  Krieg  have  laid  it  low.  Only  portions  of 
its  cathedral  and  that  tottering  wall  beside  the  old  im- 
perial palace  are  to  be  seen.  Yet  regard  that  wall  with 
reverence ;  it  is  the  grim  relic  of  a  grand  revolt.  In 
1529  that  wall  was  the  one  side  of  a  historic  hall,  and 
there  were  gathered  the  chivalry,  the  scholarship,  the 
jurists,  the  priests  and  princes  of  Europe.  The  forces 
of  the  progressive  North  and  of  the  reactionary  South 
were  marshalled  for  battle. 


376  OUR  HERITAGE  AND  OUR  HOPES. 

On  the  7th  of  April  began  the  struggle,  for  then  was 
revoked  the  toleration-edict  granting  liberty  of  worship 
and  freedom  of  evangelistic  work  to  the  restorers  of 
apostolic  Christianity.  That  revocation,  accomplished 
through  the  craft  of  the  now  once  more  reconciled  pope 
and  Emperor  Charles,  fired  with  indignation  John  the 
Steadfast,  noble  and  learned  Philip  of  Hesse,  the  sturdy 
Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  Anhalt's  brave  prince,  the 
able  Chancellor  of  Luneburg,  and  the  bold  deputies 
from  Strasburg,  Nuremberg,  Ulm,  Constanz  and  other 
free  cities.  Hearing  of  that  treacherous  revocation, 
they  start  from  their  seats,  they  gather  together,  they 
consult,  they  retire.  Who  are  they  ?  Descendants  of 
those  who  in  princely  halls  and  poorest  homes  have 
learned  to  love  the  Bible  and  God's  pure  waters  of  life. 

On  the  morrow,  standing  once  more  in  the  hall,  calm 
but  pale,  they  face  the  imperial  president  of  the  diet, 
Ferdinand  the  Fickle,  princes  and  prelates  and  the 
hosts  of  Rome,  and  canonists  and  priests. 

What  do  they  ?  They  deny ;  they  demand ;  they 
affirm. 

They  deny  all  human  supremacy  over  God-given  con- 
science ;  they  demand  liberty  of  gospel  worship  and 
freedom  for  gospel  work ;  they  affirm^  "  Each  man  must 
stand  alone  before  God ;  the  truth  is  God's  word,  pure 
and  simple,  and  nought  that  is  contrary  thereto, 

"  Now,  seeing  that  there  is  great  diversity  of  opinion 
as  to  the  true  and  holy  Church ;  that  there  is  no  sure 
doctrine  but  such  as  is  conformable  to  the  word  of  God ; 
that  the  Lord  forbids  the  teaching  of  any  other  doc- 
trine ;  that  each  text  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  ought  to 
be  explained  by  other  and  clearer  texts ;  that  this  holy 
Book  is  in  all  things  necessary  for  the  Christian,  easy 


THE    PROSPECTS    OF    PROTESTANTISM.  377 

of  understanding,  and  calculated  to  scatter  the  dark- 
ness ;  we  are  resolved,  with  the  grace  of  God,  to  main- 
tain the  pure  and  exclusive  preaching  of  his  only  word, 
such  as  it  is  contained  in  the  biblical  books  of  the  Old 
and  New  Testaments,  without  adding  anything  thereto. 
If  you  yield  not  to  our  request,  we  protest  before  God, 
our  only  Creator,  Preserver,  Redeemer  and  Saviour, 
who  will  one  day  be  our  Judge,  as  well  as  before  all 
men  and  nations,  that  we,  for  us  and  our  people,  neither 
consent  nor  adhere,  in  any  manner  whatsoever,  to  the 
proposed  decree,  in  anything  that  is  contrary  to  God, 
to  his  holy  word,  to  our  right  consciences,  to  the  salva- 
tion of  our  souls,  and  to  the  first  edict  of  Speyer." 

No !  they  thunder  to  all  the  traditions  of  the  elders  ; 
Yes!  they  write  under  all  God  says.  And  ih^y  protest 
against  all  power — the  Csesarism  of  the  empire  and  the 
Csesarism  of  the  papacy — which  would  add  anything  to 
Scripture  or  bind  the  conscience  of  which  God  alone  is 
King. 

There  and  then  those  noble  men,  who  have  glorified 
their  age,  gained  their  immortal  name — The  Protest- 
ants. 

That  sublime  movement  of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  the 
Reformation,  took  bodily  shape  in  this  hour  of  crisis. 

This  movement,  seen  in  its  earliest  development  or 
studied  in  its  full-bodied  and  well-grown  strength, 
proves  itself  a  true  and  real  resurrection  of  primitive 
Christianity — the  old  and  indestructible  life  in  a  new 
form,  and  that  in  a  new  world. 

Protestantism  is  not,  as  Dorner  develops  in  his  his- 
tory, merely  the  negation  of  Romanism ;  it  is  not  a 
mere  protest  against  the  Church  of  the  pope ;  it  is  not 
the  accidental  union  of  tendencies,  feelings  and  views 


378         OUR  HERITAGE  AND  OUR  HOPES. 

adverse  to  Rome  considered  in  herself;  but  holding  in 
its  breast  a  proper  principle  of  vitality,  it  is  the  neces- 
sary outgrowth  and  forthputting  of  a  life  repressed  for 
centuries.  Thus  Protestantism  has  an  union,  a  vital 
connection,  with  the  ancient  Church  of  the  Apostles. 
Cradled  in  ancient  Christianity,  it  was  nurtured  by  the 
most  earnest  minds  of  the  middle  ages. 

Thus  born  and  nurtured.  Protestantism,  judged  by  its 
authoritative  symbols,  embodies  two  grand  principles — 
one  negative,  one  positive.  A  negative — for  Protestant- 
ism is  a  Bible-born  revolt  against  all  class-authority  in 
regard  to  church  control,  creed  and  conduct ;  and  in 
that  revolt  are  involved  the  right  and  duty  of  each 
individual  to  search  the  law  and  testimony  for  himself, 
and  to  decide  as  to  its  meaning  on  his  own  responsibility. 

A  principle  positive — the  proclamation  and  inculcation 
of  certain  doctrinal,  moral  and  ecclesiastical  views,  as 
founded  on,  agreeable  to  and  authorized  by  holy  Scrip- 
ture ;  and  herein  are  involved  the  supremacy  of  God 
over  creed  and  conduct  and  the  consequent  limitation 
of  the  freedom  of  the  creature,  who  is  at  once  moral 
and  responsible.  Thus  Protestantism  confronts  alike 
the  Csesarism  of  the  prince  and  the  worse  Csesarism  of 
the  pope,  and  fights  for  the  freedom  of  the  individual. 
But,  at  the  same  moment.  Protestantism  confronts  all 
lawless  individualism,  and  asserts  the  supremacy  of 
God's  law  and  truth.  Like  the  ark  of  old,  it  prostrates 
the  Dagon  of  sacerdotalism.  Like  David,  it  masters, 
in  Jehovah's  name,  the  boastful  and  blasphemous  Go- 
liath of  lawless  humanism. 

Thus,  fair  to  man  and  just  to  God,  Protestantism 
carried  man  with  it,  and  found  the  Almighty  its  shield 
and  sword. 


THE    PROSPECTS    OF    PROTESTANTISM.  379 

Not  mine  to-night  the  thrilling  task  of  repeating,  but 
simply  of  referring  to,  its  early  success.  After  many 
faint  flushings  of  the  sky — the  gray -roseate  prophets  of 
the  dawn — the  day  broke,  and  rushed,  like  a  full  trop- 
ical sun,  fast  and  furious  into  full-orbed  glory ;  and  the 
slumbering  life  of  the  most  forceful  nations  started  into 
more  than  Samsonic  energy  and  power. 

But,  as  with  many  of  our  brightest  days  in  sea-girt 
isles,  the  glory  too  quickly  paled.  The  Reformation 
seemed  suddenly  to  have  lost  breath,  and  its  race  to 
the  goal  of  universal  supremacy  was  slacked. 

In  the  exhaustive  works  of  Ranke,  in  the  histories 
of  Hallam  and  Macaulay,  and  in  the  half-truths  and 
unwilling  admissions  of  Spalding,  we  may  behold  a 
double  set  of  causes  for  this  reaction. 

One  set  inside  the  Church  of  Rome.  The  Roman 
court,  after  the  peace  with  Charles  the  Fifth,  began  to  con- 
centrate its  strength  upon  her  spiritual  field ;  the  Coun- 
cil of  Trent  gave  compactness  and  unity  to  her  dogmas ; 
the  monastic  orders,  under  the  influence  of  some  dis- 
tinguished men,  practiced  a  new  and  severe  discipline  ; 
the  wealthier  church  livings  were  freely  given  to  the 
sons  and  nephews  of  ruling  princes ;  under  the  frenzied 
genius  of  Loyola,  the  mightiest  organization  the  papacy 
ever  wielded  rose  in  the  army  of  the  Jesuits ;  and  in 
the  hands  of  the  followers  of  Dominic  de  Guzman  the 
Inquisition  became  an  engine  of  indescribable  power  for 
the  suppression  of  the  truth. 

Without  the  Church  of  Rome,  but  influenced  by  her 
power  and  policy,  the  Catholic  powers  of  Spain,  Ital}^, 
France  and  Austria  persecuted  to  death  and  utter  de- 
struction the  infant  churches  of  the  Reformation.  Prot- 
estf^nt  powers,  by  their  insane  conflicts,  weakened  each 


380         OUR  HERITAGE  AND  OUR  HOPES. 

other  so  frequently  that  they  were  often  overpowered 
by  the  Catholic  League. 

Among  the  Protestant  churches  we  find  sad  causes  : 
the  lamentable  and  notorious  imperfection  of  the  Eng- 
lish Reformation,  the  bitter  dissensions  between  Luther- 
ans and  Calvinists,  and  the  scandalous  cupidity,  luke- 
warmness  and  formality  that  were  too  soon  manifest  in 
the  Lutheran  Church. 

Co-operant  with  all  these  forces  checking  the  Ref- 
ormation was  a  power  that  threatened  Christianity 
itself — the  skepticism  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

Following  upon  this  beclouded  period  came  a  time  in 
some  respects  even  worse — that  eighteenth  century, 
"age  of  the  trifling  head  and  the  corrupted  heart." 

But  at  the  eventide  there  is  ever  light.  Into  that  age 
of  "  civilized  barbarism  and  disguised  animalism  "  the 
God  of  history  stepped.  By  terrible  things  in  right- 
eousness he  made  answer  to  prayer  upon  the  continent. 
In  England  and  America  he  replied  by  the  dews  and 
soft  showers  of  his  reviving  grace.  France  was  con- 
vulsed by  the  volcanic  revolution.  Germany  had,  as 
Bauer  shows,  an  agonizing  new  birth  in  her  "  wars  of 
independence."  To  England,  Scotland,  Ireland  and 
America  fresh  faith  and  spirit-strength  were  given. 
The  saintly  fathers  Beveridge  and  Doddridge  gave 
birth  to  Whitfield  and  the  Wesleys.  Then  came  re- 
vived churches.  Sabbath-schools,  care  for  the  poor, 
new-born  missions,  the  holy  war  for  emancipation,  and 
the  sublime  lives  of  Howard,  Wilberforce  and  Thomp- 
son. The  darkness  passed,  the  true  light  shone  once 
more ;  and  since  it  has  gathered  force  and  fullness  and 
freedom  every  hour. 

Like    travellers  journeying    in    autumn's    changeful 


THE    PROSPECTS    OF    PROTESTANTISM.  381 

days  from  mountain  top  to  top,  we  have  gone  from  the 
gleaming  peaks  of  the  glorious  Reformation-century 
downwards  through  the  fading  light,  gathering  gloom 
and  freezing  mists  of  the  seventeenth  century ;  through 
the  lifeless  deserts  and  awesome  nights  of  the  eight- 
eenth we  have  hurried,  sick  with  the  stench  of  its 
corruptions,  feeling  it  a  very  valley  of  death's  shade ; 
and  then  up  through  the  thunders  and  lightnings  and 
tumults  of  the  morning  of  our  age  we  have  pressed,  the 
air  growing  purer,  the  prospects  brightening  and  widen- 
ing, our  hearts  lightening,  our  voices  ringing  out  with  a 
growing  gladness,  and  now  on  the  high  land  again  we 
stand ;  and  it  is  day,  thank  God,  once  more,  with  God's 
light  and  life,  power  and  promise  in  it.  Day  again ! 
Not  all  cloudless ;  but  the  mists  and  clouds  are  hurry- 
ing quickly  from  our  view. 

And  from  Pisgah  heights  we  see  stretching  far  out- 
ward a  goodly  land  of  peace  and  plenty,  the  ark  of  the 
Lord  in  her,  God's  smile  on  her;  in  her  the  A^aried 
tribes  of  Israel  dwelling  separate,  yet  one ;  everywhere 
this  banner  seen — Jehovah  Tzidkenu ;  the  common 
song  of  the  Lamb  rolling  in  sweet  harmony  from  the 
vine-dressers  of  the  South  to  the  hardy  mountaineers 
on  Hermon's  slopes,  from  the  shepherds'  tents  on  the 
East  to  the  fishers  and  the  sailors  of  the  great  sea. 

Protestantism,  fallen  by  the  falsity  of  kings,  by  the 
ferocity  of  persecution,  still  more  by  her  own  faithless- 
ness, has  risen  Antseus-like,  with  new  vigor  fronts  the 
fray,  shakes  her  invincible  locks,  and  "meets  the  foe 
with  manly  and  awful-eyed  fortitude."  It  is  day  again 
for  her — the  most  promising  since  Luther  and  Zwingle 
disputed  at  Marburg. 

Of  this  revived  Protestantism  what  are  the  hopes 


382  OUR  HERITAGE  AND  OUR  HOPES. 

and  prospects  ?  When  we  speak  of  the  prospects  of 
Protestantism  we  survey  a  narrower  field  than  in 
studying  the  prospects  of  Christianity.  Protestant  as 
I  am  to  my  soul's  deepest  depth,  and  thou,  my  dear 
Roman  Catholic  brother,  I  will  not  forget  that  we  both 
profess  a  common  Christianity — that  ours  are  Augus- 
tine, Athanasius  and  Chrysostom ;  that  mine  and  thine 
are  Patrick  and  Boniface,  Anselm  and  Bernard  ;  that 
mine  and  thine  are  Savonarola,  Huss,  Francis,  Bona- 
ventura,  Thomas  Aquinas  and  Lacordaire. 

I  dare  not  forget  that  we  both  believe  in  one  Father's 
home,  in  one  crucified  and  risen  Christ,  in  one  Holy 
Spirit,  in  one  divine  revelation ;  and  yet,  dear  brother, 
thou  art  wrong,  and  going  daily  farther  wrong,  under 
the  fell  guidance  of  this  ultramontane  Jesuitism,  which 
has  now  placed  a  deified  man,  a  priestly  Caesar,  on  the 
throne  of  highest  glory  in  the  house  of  God ;  and, 
brother — noble,  loving,  devoted,  self-sacrificing  brother 
— with  thy  deep  religious  soul  hear  and  believe  that  all 
God's  forces,  that  God  in  nature,  God  in  history,  God 
in  grace,  are  against  thee  in  thy  hopeless,  sinful  opposi- 
tion to  free  consciences,  the  unshared  mediation  of 
Jesus,  and  the  never-delegated  authority  of  Jehovah 
one  and  supreme  ! 

Speaking  then  of  Protestantism's  prospects,  we  sur- 
vey the  field  wherein  Protestantism  and  ultramontane 
Romanism  struggle.  Though  pleasant  and  easy,  it  is 
unfair  and  unwise  to  sneer  at  and  underestimate  a  foe 
using  a  mode  of  warfare  wholly  different  from  our  own. 
Very  hard  is  it  for  thoughtful  and  generous  Teutons  to 
understand  Celts.  It  is  immeasurably  more  difficult 
for  a  Protestant  to  measure  the  force  of  Romanism. 
From  a  very  careful  study  of  her  power  and  seductive 


THE  PROSPECTS  OF  PROTESTANTISM.        383 

attractiveness,  I  have  come  forth  with  an  awed  admir- 
ation of  the  perfect  union  of  pagan  power  and  Christian 
graces  visible  in  this  mysterious  Church.  Like  a  mod- 
ern frigate,  she  is  the  highest  product  of  human  force 
and  wealth  and  skill,  richly  furnished  through  the  lav- 
ish gifts  of  many  lands,  and  finished  by  the  thousand- 
yeared  experiences  of  good  and  evil  men.  Before 
humanity  Rome  rises  at  once  queenlike  and  motherlike, 
in  her  gorgeous  historic  glory,  in  her  seemingly-death- 
less vigor  and  unscarred  beauty,  hoary  with  eld's  white- 
ness, yet  fresh  as  childhood — rises  to  present  an  au- 
thoritative teacher,  speaking  in  earth's  tones  heaven's 
certain  truth ;  to  present  a  compact,  consistent  yet 
comprehensive  theology,  releasing  from  vexing  thoughts 
and  solving  doubt;  to  present  her  priesthood  in  close 
and  effective  relations  with  the  spiritual  world,  thus 
made  near  and  tangible ;  the  easily-acquired  and  easily- 
grasped  pledge  of  salvation;  the  alleged  highest  and 
only  real  sanctity  in  this  life ;  the  long  and  magnificent 
register  of  venerable  heroes  and  saintly  heroines ;  the 
hallowed  association  of  the  highest  arts  with  devoutest 
worship ;  and  the  loud,  steadfast  claim  to  the  only 
power  capable  of  conserving  society  and  regenerating 
the  world.  Thus  Rome  attracts  from  opposite  sides  the 
sentimental  and  religious,  the  rationalistic  and  skeptical. 
But  in  this  practical  and  critical  age  Rome's  awful  as- 
sertions expose  her  to  fatal  attack.  Such  claims  chal- 
lenge, yea  compel,  keenest  search.  Did  Rome  ever 
make  them  good  ?  has  she  succeeded  ?  In  the  past  she 
relied  on  superstition,  vicarious  religion,  pious  frauds, 
human  authority,  persecution,  trust  in  outward  priv- 
ileges. Where  to-day  the  power  of  these  forces  ? 
Vanishing  like  mists.     Along  the  entire  line  of  olden 


384  OUR    HERITAGE    AND   OUR   HOPES. 

struggle  Rome  is  a  beaten  foe.  For  what  did  Wycliffe, 
Huss,  Jerome,  Savonarola,  Ridley,  contend  ?  What  in 
them  did  Rome  resist  ?  Ask  the  past ;  then  see  who 
have  won.  History  crowns  the  martyrs  as  the  victors 
of  the  persecutor.  Rome  claims  to  be  true.  Have 
not  her  own  exasperated  sons  turned  upon  her,  and  in 
"  Janus,"  in  "  The  Council  and  the  Vatican,"  in  Hefele's 
"  Councils,"  in  Dollinger's  recent  lectures,  exposed  her 
shameless  series  of  fearful  forgeries  ?  Rome  claims  to 
be  unchangeable.  We  place  in  the  light  the  countless 
variations  of  popery,  her  suspension  of  canon  laws  in 
the  lands  where  the  Jesuits  toil,  her  recent  develop- 
ments by  which  councils  lose  their  old  powers  and  bow 
slaves  to  an  infallible  pope.  Rome  claims  to  be  one. 
We  ask  her  to  explain  the  fact  of  three  popes,  each 
holy,  and  all  anathematizing  one  another ;  the  wide 
divergencies  on  morality  and  theology  within  her  pale ; 
the  fierce  animosities  of  her  varied  orders ;  and  the 
latest  schism  in  her  body.  Rome  claims  a  power  of 
perpetual  progress.  We  ask  where  is  the  possibility  of 
any  reconciliation  between  the  independent  minds  of 
the  present  and  the  future  and  the  enslaved,  reactionary 
Church  of  the  syllabus  and  infallibility?  Rome  has 
broken  with  her  own  past  and  with  the  divine  future. 

Regarding  her  present  attractions,  the  one  insuper- 
able argument  against  them  is  history,  the  pitiless  logic 
of  events.  Her  assertions  are  hollow  fictions.  Recent 
facts  in  Italy,  Spain,  France,  Mexico,  West  Indies,  Ba- 
varia, Austria,  have  written  again  on  Babylon's  wall — 
Tekel ;  and  disappointed  races  are  cursing  and  hating 
the  deceiver. 

Like  Germany  in  the  late  campaigns,  Protestantism 
fronts   an  unmasked  pretender,  and  faces  a  weakened 


THE    PROSPECTS    OF    PROTESTANTISM.  385 

enemy,  robbed  of  her  fame,  her  banners  and  her  fairest 
provinces. 

And  in  this  struggle  with  the  Jesuits'  Church,  Prot- 
estantism fights  in  alliance  with  all  modern  civilization ; 
with  all  intellectual,  moral  and  purely  sacred  forces ; 
yea,  with  the  fountain  of  all  force,  Jehovah,  who  gives 
not  his  glory  to  graven  images. 

The  civilization  of  the  age  is  our  ally.  By  civiliza- 
tion is  meant  every  element  in  tripartite  man's  perfect 
development  and  highest  well-being,  in  the  completest 
constitution  of  refined  and  highly-organized  society,  in 
the  noblest,  freest  and  purest  political  condition,  to- 
gether with  all  the  germs  of  indefinite  progress  in  the 
future  of  individuals,  society  and  states.  Once  the 
mediaeval  Church  was  the  conservator  of  civilization; 
but  the  Council  of  Trent  began  a  separation,  and  it  grew 
till  the  syllabus  of  this  Jesuit-ruled  pope  declared  dead- 
liest opposition  to  all  modern  culture.  Historic  facts 
have  taught  the  nations  that,  while  Protestantism  has  a 
necessary  connection  with,  and  a  felt  need  of,  broadest 
civil  and  religious  liberty,  liberal  education  and  the 
downfall  of  all  monopolies,  Romanism  has  never  dis- 
avowed the  right  to  persecute,  nor  renounced  the  con- 
trol of  conscience,  nor  resigned  her  claims  to  mtermed- 
dle  with  the  jurisdiction  of  states,  nor  given  up  the 
absolute  lordship  over  all  lords,  and  her  supreme  exal- 
tation above  every  human  law  and  opinion.  Hence  the 
nations  have  drawn  back  the  secular  arm  that  supported, 
and  withheld  the  temporal  benefits  that  nurtured,  this 
deadly  viper  of  ultramontane  Caesarism.  Further,  we 
see  the  gifts  of  civilization  and  the  results  of  thought 
and  science  so  quickening  intellect  and  sharpening  curi- 
osity that  there  rules  a  critical  spirit,  making  credulity 


386  OUR    HERITAGE    AND   OUR    HOPES. 

most  difficult  and  undermining  superstition.  And  all 
this  works  mightily  against  Rome,  and  for  her  who  says, 
"  Judge  ye  what  I  say  ?"  Again,  the  whole  tendency 
of  civil  government  is  to  free  the  masses,  to  destroy 
castes,  to  give  prominence  to  the  man,  leaving  the  indi- 
vidual independent  within  his  own  proper  world,  and 
limiting  him  simply  as  he  would  limit  his  neighbor. 
Now  the  outcome  of  such  state-action  is  the  necessitat- 
ing of  private  judgment,  stimulating  freedom  of  soul 
and  deepening  the  sense  of  individual  responsibility. 
Against  whom  do  all  these  modern  improvements  tell  ? 
History  and  the  syllabus  say  Rome.  For  whom  ?  His- 
tory and  the  Evangelical  Alliance  say,  Thank  God, 
&r  Protestantism  !  At  the  Reformation  Protestantism, 
attacking  the  papal  Csesar  who  succeeded  and  surpassed 
the  pagan  Caesar,  redowered  the  individual  with  his 
proper  and  regulated  freedom,  and  ever  since  she  has 
nourished  the  free  energy,  both  intellectual  and  moral, 
of  each  subject,  till  a  resultant  self-respect,  self-control, 
self-reliance,  mental  activity,  inventive  capacity  and 
energy  of  character  have  made  her  best  sons  the  won- 
der of  the  age.  And  for  proof,  you  may  contrast  Ger- 
many with  France,  Holland  with  Portugal,  England  with 
Spain,  the  United  States  with  Mexico.  Which  religious 
system  will  the  progressive  societies  of  the  future  adopt  ? 
And  here  we  are  led  to  ask,  On  whose  side  are  ranked 
modern  military  science  and  strength,  commerce  and  the 
great  colonizing  forces  ?  Surveying  the  fields  of  gory 
Mars,  of  fleet-footed  Mercury  and  restless  Neptune, 
where  see  we  the  greatest  power  and  promise  ?  So  far 
as  I  can  judge,  the  only  hope  of  the  Vatican  is  in  a 
war ;  and  yet,  the  great  military  powers  are  all  anti- 
ultramontane,  including  both  Italy  and  Austria,  while 


THE    PROSPECTS    OF    PROTESTANTISM.  o87 

the  very  strongest  are  Protestant — England,  Germany 
and  America.  Where  lies  the  force  of  colonization? 
Unquestionably  with  the  hardy  sons  of  Protestantism, 
who  are  making  the  Greater  Britain  and  the  New  Ger- 
many and  the  Larger  Scandinavia.  Compare  the  miser- 
able Latin  colonies  with  the  vigorous  settlements  of  the 
Briton,  the  German  and  Norwegian.  The  past  testifies 
that  the  rise  and  growth  of  commerce  powerfully  under- 
mined the  lordship  of  the  hierarchy,  and  the  Dutch 
merchants  and  English  sailors  soon  renounced  the  sway 
of  ecclesiastics.  Commerce,  producing  a  keenness  of 
intellect,  practical  sagacity,  social  progress,  generous 
sympathies,  rapid  intercourse,  and  liberalizing  indus- 
tries, arts  and  studies,  has  ever  wrought  for  Protest- 
antism. And  to-day  who  own  London  and  Liverpool, 
Glasgow  and  Belfast,  New  York  and  San  Francisco  ? 

Regard  now  the  purely  intellectual  forces.  In  every 
progressive  society,  secular  instruction,  popular  educa- 
tion and  knowledge  are  rapidly  spreading.  Men  must 
have  newspapers,  books,  schools,  colleges,  free  investi- 
gation and  discussion,  and  earnest  appeals  to  public 
opinion.  Even  Rome  makes  her  justifications  before 
public  society,  publishes  her  purposes,  prints  her  books 
and  sends  forth  her  eloquent  Manning  and  oratorical 
Burke  to  plead  her  cause.  What  a  change  from  the 
olden  day,  when  she  never  defended,  but  only  burned ! 
Is  this  condition  of  mind  and  education  the  helper  of 
Romanism  or  Protestantism,  judging  by  their  actions  and 
histories  ?  Which  system  demands  culture  ?  To  the 
Roman,  culture  is  confessedly  needless,  and  at  the  best 
is  an  intruder  whose  action  must  be  chained.  To  the 
Protestant,  education,  knowledge,  mental  enlightenment, 
are  indispensable,  for  the  strength  of  our  reformed  faith 


388  OUR    HERITAGE    AND   OUR    HOPES. 

lies  in  the  thorough  search  and  intelligent  study  of 
that  Bible  which  calls  for  the  highest  cultivation  of  mind 
and  spirit.  Educate,  educate,  educate  !  cried  Luther  and 
Calvin  and  Knox ;  never  since  has  the  cry  died,  and 
now  the  masses  have  caught  it  up,  and  demand  freest, 
fairest,  fullest  education.  And  education  and  Protest- 
antism are  united  as  light  and  heat. 

Mightier  than  the  intellectual  are  the  moral  forces. 
On  whose  side  are  marshalled  the  holy  love  of  self,  the 
love  of  truth,  the  love  of  man,  of  home  and  country  ? 

Thou  shalt  love  thy  better  self — thy  free  will,  higher 
aspirations.  God-fearing  self-reliance,  thy  direct  respons- 
ibility to  God  !  And  the  mightiest  races,  daily  rising 
in  their  esteem  of  these  glorious  possessions,  cry 
Amen !  Where  is  this  sacred  love  of  the  noble  self 
most  secure  ? 

Thou  shalt  love  truth — solid,  pure,  broad,  real,  per- 
sonal holiness  !  Men  cry  Amen !  and  proxy-sanctity 
avails  no  more.  Where  is  the  weightiest  wealth  of 
moral  character — in  Scotland  or  in  Spain  ? 

Thou  shalt  love  man  !  Where  are  the  masses  freest 
and  most  cared  for  ?  Where  is  the  labor  question  most 
fairly  faced  ?  Where  is  slavery  most  abhorred  and  most 
fully  abolished  ? 

Thou  shalt  love  thy  home !  And  men  know  where 
their  hearts  are  most  sacred  and  their  homes  the  safest. 
Is  it  where  celibacy  and  the  confessional  are  laws  ? 

Thou  shalt  love  thy  land !  The  voices  of  the  human 
heart  and  of  heaven's  law  harmonize  here.  What  church 
would  destroy  true  nationality,  declaring  the  principle 
of  separate  nationalities  barbarous  and  anti-Christian? 
The  Romish — Manning  and  Mivart  being  witnesses. 
Dr.  Manning  deliberately  declares  that  intense  love  of 


THE    PROSPECTS   OF    PROTESTANTISM.  389 

native  land  which  rejects  the  rule  of  the  Vatican  to  be 
revived  paganism.  We  affirm  that  patriotism,  calling 
for  a  free  church  in  a  free  state,  to  be  ancient  and 
eternal  Christianity.  Freemen !  hear  it — true  patriot- 
ism, intense  nationalism,  is  paganism !  We  say,  your 
love  of  land  is  one  of  the  finest  features  of  your  loving, 
noble  and  impulsive  natures. 

Again,  in  this  battle  we  have  with  us  strange  yet 
strong  allies.  Within  the  Church  of  Rome  we  have 
our  forces.  Not  to  enchained  consciences,  not  to  fet- 
tered intellects  nor  restless  households,  refractory 
priests  and  oppressed  Gallican  or  Hibernian  freemen, 
not  to  multiplying  schools,  unavoidable  education,  and 
rebellious  students  kicking  against  the  syllabus,  do  I 
refer;  but  to  Rome's  recent  abandonment  of  her  old 
position.  As  Dollinger,  Fromann  and  Hefele  demon- 
strate, she  has  broken  with  her  traditional  past,  is  now 
new,  and  that  with  blasphemous  arrogance ;  second, 
having  lost  her  liberty  and  comprehensiveness,  she  has 
dwindled  to  a  sect,  and  that  of  the  fell  Jesuits ;  third, 
by  her  infallibility  decree  she  has  made  all  reform  im- 
possible ;  fourth,  by  her  present  attitude  she  has  made 
herself  the  propagandist  of  universal  revolution,  and 
hence  the  nations  are  rising  against  her.  The  battle  is 
already  begun  in  Switzerland,  Italy,  Austria  and  the 
grand  old  Fatherland.  And  with  the  battle  comes  the 
new  revolt,  the  wondrous  Old-Catholic  movement,  born 
in  the  strange  cradle  of  the  Vatican,  attaining  maturity 
in  Constanz,  and  now,  fully  organized,  walking  forth  in 
power,  refusing  the  hand  of  the  Romanizing  anglican, 
while  sending  loving  greetings  to  the  Evangelical  Alli- 
ance. 

All  these  favorable  forces  lie  outside   of  Protestant- 


390  OUR    HERITAGE    AND    OUR    HOPES. 

ism,  and  the  issue  of  them  depends,  under  God,  on  what 
the  Protestant  churches  are  and  shall  do. 

Studied  from  within,  Protestantism  never  had  pros- 
pects half  so  bright.  Her  churches  are  now  fuller  of 
life  and  light,  closer  drawn,  instinct  with  a  purer  spirit 
than  ever — the  might  of  God  and  man  with  her.  And 
the  finest  and  most  striking  proofs  are  the  later  meetings 
of  her  Alliance,  the  grandest  in  men,  mightiest  in  moral 
force,  most  attractive  in  generosity,  enthusiastic  in 
mission  zeal,  united  in  hope,  Christly  in  charity,  and 
divinely  one  in  aim  and  sympathy  and  work,  her 
children  have  ever  known.  Recall  the  glorious  New 
York  conference.  Hearken  to  them,  as  from  every 
kindred  and  nation  and  tongue  they  tell  every  man  in 
his  own  tongue  the  marvellous  works  of  God.  We  know 
the  story  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland  tell.  Joyfully 
speaks  Brown  from  Russia  of  the  many  points  of 
agreement  between  the  Greek  Church  and  evangelical 
Christendom.  Kalkar  of  Scandinavia  tells  of  new  life, 
more  scriptural  preaching  and  growing  missionary  zeal. 
Protestant  Germany  speaks  through  young  Krummacher 
of  fresh  faith  everywhere,  of  generals  preaching  the 
gospel,  of  a  pious  emperor  and  a  revived  Church.  Stuart 
from  Rotterdam  describes  thus  the  Protestantism  of  Hol- 
land— Calvinistic  in  creed,  Presbyterian  in  organization 
and  Puritan  in  rite — and  declares  that  everywhere  are 
prognostics  of  a  better  future.  Anet  from  Belgium,  Fisch 
and  Lorriaux  from  France,  Reichel  from  Switzerland 
and  Prochet  from  Italy  tell  a  hopeful  tale  of  even  those 
papal  lands.  Classic  Greece  and  torpid  Turkey  speak 
their  words  of  cheer.  Then  voices  from  the  great 
mission  fields  cry,  "  Good  news  !  glad  tidings  !  Jesus 
reigns  over  countless  subjugated  hearts !" 


THE    PROSPECTS   OF    PROTESTANTISM.  391 

Now  look  within  that  church.  The  feast  of  charity, 
the  table  of  Christ,  is  spread.  There  the  Judah  of 
Episcopacy  and  the  Ephraim  of  Nonconformity,  vexing 
no  more  nor  envying,  meet  in  love.  One  not  in  dead 
uniformity,  but  one,  as  nature  is,  with  unity  and  variety 
— one  in  God,  one  in  will,  in  work,  one  in  Christ,  one 
family  on  whom  the  one  Father  smiles.  As  the  grave, 
sweet  melody  of  grateful  song  swells  from  the  hearts 
of  those  united  representatives  of  about  100,000,000 
Protestants,  may  they  and  we  not  say,  What  hath  God 
wrought ! 

The  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for  us  !  Who  may 
measure  the  greatness  ?  Back  to  the  early  witnesses 
and  martyred  fathers  of  Protestantism  we  look,  and 
then  around,  to  cry  again.  How  great !  In  England 
long  and  hopelessly  did  Wycliffe  plead  for  a  free  Bible, 
and  to-day  in  over  sixty  tongues  men  read  of  Jesus. 
Now  the  colporteur  stands  in  the  Madrid  streets,  and 
the  Bible  society  has  its  place  in  the  Roman  Corso. 
In  Bohemia  and  at  Constanz  Huss  and  Jerome  preached 
and  prayed  and  died  for  freedom  of  conscience  and  of 
worship.  To-day  no  secular  arm  obeys  the  Inquisition, 
and  the  Vatican  itself  cannot  exclude  the  sound  of  the 
Protestant  psalm.  At  Florence  the  eloquent  Do- 
minican proclaimed  "  the  triumph  of  the  cross,"  and 
Rome  burned  him.  To-day  thousands,  in  his  own 
Tuscan,  sing  the  song  of  the  Lamb.  At  Cologne  and 
Lou  vain  Wessel  whispered  of  justification  by  fjiith. 
To-day  millions  tell  boldly  "  the  old,  old  story." 

To-day  we  look  around  in  grateful  gladness,  witness- 
ing in  the  Protestant  churches  a  deepening  humility, 
an  ever-growing  spiritual  power,  a  progressive  life  of 
increasing  symmetry    and   beauty,  a   steadily-swelling 


392  OUR    HERITAGE    AND    OUR    HOPES. 

light,  fed  more  plentifully  by  the  oil  of  the  Spirit,  a 
diviner  strength,  derived  from  closer  communion  with 
Christ,  a  widening,  more  tender,  generous  charity, 
which,  with  love's  quick  insight,  is  catching  more 
quickly  the  lineaments  of  Jesus  in  every  Christian 
face,  and  hastens  to  greet  it  with  the  kiss  of  peace. 
Lovers  of  Jesus,  drawn  more  powerfully  by  his  own 
attractiveness  to  himself,  are  nearing  each  other.  In 
Geneva  the  Catholic  priest  says  to  the  Protestant  pas- 
tor, "  Give  me  your  hand,  brother ;  we  are  one  in 
Jesus."  And  within  the  reformed  churches  nearer  and 
nearer  draw  the  servants  of  the  common  Lord.  Sep- 
arated sections  of  the  same  ecclesiastical  families  are 
everywhere  uniting  into  single  and  compact  bodies, 
unified  by  love  and  by  the  spirit  of  peace ;  and  distinct 
denominations  are  strongly  possessed  by  the  faith  that 
alliance  in  God's  work  is  a-  grand  and  simple  possibility 
even  in  this  moment,  despite  a  thousand  distinctions, 
and  that  it  will  form  a  blessed  preparative  for  that  real 
union  which  shall  disregard  dull  uniformity,  and  seek 
the  higher  unity  and  hallowed  harmony  of  Christian 
likeness  and  unlikeness.  Daily  rises  higher  the  banner 
of  peace  with  this  device,  "  Let  there  be  no  strife,  for 
we  are  brethren." 

And  God,  the  Author  of  concord  and  Father  of  the 
one  family,  smiles.  Beneath  that  smile  the  desert 
blooms  and  the  waste  grows  Edenic  in  its  beaut}'  and 
heavy  fruitage,  and  the  Spirit-breath  sweeps  soft  and 
vitalizing  across  the  paradise  of  a  reviving  Church,  and 
it  is  spring  in  the  garden  of  the  Lord. 

Up  from  this  reviving  Church  rises  prayer — one 
mighty  prayer — hearty,  believing,  sharply-pointed,  sa- 
credly passionate,  prevalent  in  the  resistless  determina- 


THE    PROSPECTS    OF    PROTESTANTISM.  393 

tion  of  holy  boldness  and  sanctified  resolution, — rises 
to  be  caught  by  the  High  Priest  and  presented  to  the 
Father;  and  the  prayer  is  for  the  "promise  of  the 
Father,"  for  the  suppliants  have  learned  by  the  past 
that  not  by  might  nor  by  power,  but  by  God's  Spirit, 
they  shall  conquer;  and  so  lower  still  they  bend. 
"  Not  unto  us,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name,  be 
glory."  We  have  no  holy  father  but  God,  no  holy 
priest  but  Christ,  no  holy  unction  but  the  Spirit.  Thou 
art  our  all  in  all. 

Look  up !  As  they  bow  and  plead  the  bow  stretches 
outwards,  downwards — the  emerald  bow  of  covenant- 
promise  ;  and  the  old  words  fall  with  new  power  on 
our  ears,  "  Them  that  honor  me  I  will  honor,  but  they 
that  despise  me  shall  be  lightly  esteemed." 

Therein  is  told  the  doom  of  Rome  and  the  coming 
glory  of  the  Church  of  Christ's  pure  evangel.  The 
hour  nears  when  angel  voices  shall  cry,  and  earth  take 
up  the  shout,  "  Babylon  is  fallen — is  fallen — fallen  to 
rise  no  more." 

"  The  world  is  old. 
But  the  old  world  waits  the  time  to  be  renewed, 
Towards  which  new  faithful  hearts  must  quicken  .  .  . 
Developed  whence,  shall  grow  spontaneously 
New  churches,  new  oeconomies,  new  laws 
Admitting  freedom,  new  societies 
Excluding  falsehood :  he  shall  make  all  new." 


26 


Date  Due 


M  R  - 


■-'z^ 


5   ^'-'27 


n  gdy 


=i4i- 


VH 


BW1915.M15 

The  breakers  of  the  yoke  :  sketches  and 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  00082  5762 


